The Trials of Herculanna and Sevcules
by Gemini1179
Summary: A response to a monthly fic challenge put forward on the VJB boards. Details in Chapter 1.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Ok, so this is the start to a challenge, the first challenge I've participated in, from the VJB boards.**

**1) Write a one-part fic each month, on any theme.**

**2) Each fic must be linked to the preceding one although it cannot be a continuation of the previous month's story.**

**3) At the end of the year, the work should be twelve separate one-shots linked together by a narrative with a beginning, middle and end.**

**How I am going to pull this off, I have no idea. BUT I did get an idea on where to start and we'll see where it takes me from here. I'm using Wikipedia as a base reference for the overall theme. I'm not going to spell it out, it should be fairly obvious, right?**

**PS- Update: I'm having some trouble finding the literary centre of CH21 in R&D and I'm half-way through R&D:Family CH2. All this while juggling my time playing The Old Republic (got an idea for a fic starring my Trooper character in that world) and reading some amazing fics here like one of my personal favorites _"The Bringer of Destruction"_ by AlexisBlade- you should check it out if you haven't already.**

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><p>The Trials of Herculanna and Sevcules<p>

Part 1- The Lion of Nemea Prime

Seven had been resistant, going so far as to even say "Lieutenant Torres, if Mr. Paris, Ensign Kim and Commander Chakotay- all widely considered by the female members, and some male members of the crew to be the 'catch' of the crew- could not secure a 'date' with me, you- my most clear antagonist- have, as humans say: no chance." B'Elanna had laughed at the clear look of contempt and posture exuding arrogance on the beautiful Borg of her desires. Clearly Seven had yet to grasp the concept of sarcasm. Harry's romantic fowl-ups were legendary; the Helmrat was a womanizing man-child and Chakotay- well, he was considered untouchable because no one WANTED to touch him.

"We'll see my Borgiful Seven, we'll see. Resistance is- as they say- _futile_." Then she'd left the suddenly speechless blonde at her console in Astrometrics to ponder the words left to her by the grinning Chief Engineer of the Federation Starship Voyager.

That was two weeks ago. Now, alone in this dark cave, B'Elanna began to wonder if she'd gone temporarily insane. Seven had studiously turned down or ignored all her invites to dinner and even lunch, as well as stubbornly decrying the purpose of attending social events until Captain Janeway eventually relented and allowed her to skip them much to the chagrin of the newly determined B'Elanna Torres.

It had all made sense at the time. She'd had a 'eureka' moment one evening after Seven had driven her nuts for the umpteenth time in Engineering with her constant corrections to B'Elanna's work. The fact that her corrections were all right made it all so much worse and yet so much better.

It was her Human curiosity that sparked her natural problem solving acumen that allowed her to finally understand. Her Klingon side wasn't big on exposition and it left B'Elanna confused more often than not. Her Klingon side also did not have time to hold her hand and explain the inner workings of her hearts to her. It was her Klingon side that had responded to Seven as it had with every other challenge B'Elanna had encountered in her life. Only this time, the 'challenged' did not back down; did not run away from the 'scary Klingon'. No, this time the one so challenged by her Klingon instinct had challenged right back; had not been afraid one bit of her nature and had stood toe to toe with her. Several months of antagonistic interaction was all her Klingon side needed to finally approve of Seven as a mate. Her Human side had been a bit more dense on the matter unfortunately and it ended up taking another year and a resigned date with the Helmrat followed by a day of Seven's constant corrections in Engineering for her to take the hint. Finally, she'd found the one to hold her third heart- and damn it if the stubborn Borg wasn't going to make it just that much harder on her. Probably on purpose too.

Voyager was orbiting Nemea Prime enjoying a rare encounter with a friendly species for once; the crew on shore leave, her Captain enjoying the diplomat treatment in the Capital city, and Seven of Nine- former Tertiary Adjunct to Unimatrix Zero One- was working hard in Astrometrics. But B'Elanna had a plan. Thirty days is what they had despite the Captain wanting to get on the move earlier. The senior crew had said that the break was needed for morale; a long vacation would do everyone some good.

On her first day on the surface, B'Elanna had traveled to one of the smaller countryside villages to see if she might be able to find a unique gift for her Borg-to-be. What she discovered, however, was that this particular town, Cleonae, was plagued by a mysterious creature and in their attempts to kill it, they discovered that its golden fur was apparently immune to energy-based weaponry. Striking from the darkness, local farmers had been losing cattle and the occasional townsperson for years. Somehow, the locals had gotten it in their head that this was a mythical creature and that using modern technology to rid themselves of the problem was bad luck. Several hunters had tried without success over the years to track and kill the beast.

Hearing the description of the golden-furred beast, B'Elanna had volunteered to rid the small village of the beast once and for all and the locals had agreed readily. Over the next week-and-a-half, B'Elanna prepared. She'd done her half-shifts on Voyager when required, but otherwise had focused on the hunt. Brief consideration was given to her Klingon armour, but that was more about pomp and circumstance then actual combat. Leather with metal trim; broad shoulder pads and an exposed chest traditionally indicating a Klingon female's desire to grant a handicap to their foe thereby demonstrating their battle prowess was culturally inspiring but ultimately impractical for hunting from what she gathered was a large lion-type animal.

So B'Elanna fashioned her own new set of armour. With permission from the Captain, she'd obtained some of the junk Borg ditanium technology that they'd never gotten rid of and created a new bad-ass-yet-practical set of matte black armour to wear. Using a fabric mesh underlay woven with deuterium micro-fibres and Vulcan Spider-silk technology, she'd made the perfect comfortable and practical base layer. Unbeknownst to the Doctor, she'd also used some of his bio-suit tech to help regulate her body temperature and ensure that she gave off no heat signature- she didn't want to take any chances not knowing the creature's sensory capabilities.

Next she'd moulded the plating she would need to cover her vital areas and pieced everything together. Using the spinal plating from the Klingon design as inspiration, she created ditanium plate mail spinal protection surrounded by a hard shell covering her ribs, chest and upper back. Attached to the hard shell chest was more of the ditanium plate mail woven again with micro Vulcan Spider Silk fibres covering her mid-section which would expand and contract as needed once the suit was powered on giving her maximum flexibility and protection. The suit was completed with shock-absorbing shoulder pauldrons, greaves, forearm and bicep bracers, a helmet as well as armoured shin-guards on her boots which attached to the armoured knee pads on her greaves.

It took another few days for B'Elanna's hidden hunter's instincts to pick up the creature's trail and track it back to its lair in the mountains near the town. Along the way, B'Elanna had run into a local farmer, Molo, who had pleaded with her for vengeance upon the creature- but for what he didn't say. He promised a number of supplies to Voyager if she brought back some proof of the creature's death.

Shaking herself out of her thoughts, B'Elanna scanned her helmet's internal HUD again. The sensor tech in her suit had mapped out the bulk of the cave's internal structure which had revealed to her the second entrance to the cave that she'd already sealed with a well placed phaser blast. Knowing there was only one unexplored section left, and thinking of her glorious return to the village and Seven with evidence of her prowess, B'Elanna unsheathed her twin dk'taghs as a feral grin spread across her face hidden by the black helmet she was wearing. Slowly and carefully she made her way towards the innermost chamber and the heat signature contained within.

The enhanced vision provided by her helmet showed in muted gray tones the surrounding walls and ground in detail as she approached the large chamber. Reading again the location of the stationary heat signature in the room, B'Elanna slowed her breathing and prepared to strike at the creature as she moved silently into the room.

A sudden whimper froze her in her tracks as she was about to launch herself upon her prey.

There on the ground, huddled near a pile of bones and what appeared to be torn clothing, was a little boy clutching his legs and shaking in fear. It must have been the man Molo's son, the resemblance was there and it would explain the man's anger.

Without conscious thought, her purpose changed- she would get this boy out of here and back to his father. Thoughts of a glorious battle and impressing Seven with the tale seemed to fade into the background of her mind as B'Elanna closed on the small boy. Being unable to see in the darkness but feeling the approach of a foreign body, the boy began to recoil in fear.

"Easy little one, I'm not here to hurt you." B'Elanna reached the small boy and pulled out a protein bar and a liquid ration from one of her belt compartments and quickly fed the boy who all but launched himself at her clutching on for dear life when he heard her voice and realized it wasn't the creature coming at last to feed on him.

It took a few moments, during which B'Elanna had switched on a light and removed her helmet, to get the boy to calm down and eat and drink what she had for him. While he was busy greedily scarfing down the food and drink, B'Elanna did a quick physical inspection of the boy and found that his left leg was seriously wounded and was mildly infected.

"I've got to get you out of here, can you understand me? Nod for yes." So far he hadn't said a word in favour of the food and drink selflessly offered by his rescuer but the pain and fear had abated since the arrival of the darkly-clad heroine. Her universal translator, having been properly set since Voyager's arrival in system did its job and the boy nodded as his bright purple eyes regarded B'Elanna's own deep brown orbs.

"Ok little one, I'm going to lift you up and-" The little boy's face had gone white and B'Elanna heard the low rumble only a fraction of a second before pain exploded on her right side as the large creature's mammoth jaws clamped down on her mid-section. While her armour prevented her flesh from being pierced, the plate mail still allowed for point compression and she knew she'd have bruises and possibly a cracked rib or two from the first attack alone.

As her instincts took over, B'Elanna reached to her left hip holster for her dk'tagh as the creature with its golden fur and large burning amber eyes snapped its head back and to the left, releasing the armoured Klingon and sending her flying across the room where she landed with a groan in a heap.

Luckily, she had not relinquished her grip on her blade and so the timeless dance of death began in earnest. B'Elanna didn't fight for glory; she didn't fight for anything other than to protect a little boy. Her natural eyesight had adjusted to the low light and the armour she wore gave her the protection, added strength and agility she needed to come out the victor in the short battle that followed. Sharp claws striking at her head were not a match for calculated warrior's instinct and it wasn't long before her blade found purchase in the throat of the mighty beast ending the creature's reign of terror over the countryside.

The villagers of Cleonae quickly came to greet the small black-armoured woman carrying the small boy as she arrived a short time later. Bruised, bloodied and somewhat beaten, B'Elanna floated through the reunion of the boy and his father and the praise from the villagers at the knowledge that the beast was defeated once and for all.

It was as she was pulling off the last bits of her armour and sitting in her black bodysuit that B'Elanna was finally shaken from her fatigue.

"B'Elanna Torres, if you wish to impress me with suicidal attacks on large creatures, understand that you will fail." The crisp usual monotone of Seven of Nine held something akin to reproach as she opened a medical tricorder and began to scan the gash on B'Elanna's forehead as the woman in question stared up at the object of her desires with wide eyes.

"Wha-" thoroughly confused, B'Elanna tried to piece together why Seven was running a dermal regenerator over her forehead in an almost… loving manner after appearing in the out-of-the-way village seemingly out of nowhere.

"Shush. You should know, however, that selfless acts of courage are something that I find most attractive about you. As well as your intelligence, stubbornness and determination."

Perking up and brimming with hope as Seven's words sunk in, B'Elanna could do nothing but smile at the beautiful blonde above her who was trying very hard it seemed to concentrate on what she was doing and not smile herself.

"Bu-?" Full cognitive process seemed to elude the tired hero at the moment.

"Hmm, perhaps I was mistaken about your intelligence. You will have to impress me with your knowledge of warp and trans-warp theory over dinner if I am to seriously consider you as a mate." Seven crossed her left arm under her right elbow as she tapped her chin thoughtfully with her right index finger in a perfect imitation of mock consideration.

B'Elanna recovered quickly at seeing Seven tease her so easily and grinned. "Challenge accepted, Borg."

"Indeed. However, I shall have to think carefully about whether or not I shall refer to you by your newly acquired title." Seven began to walk away from B'Elanna leaving the brunette once again confused and suddenly aroused at the same time.

"What title?" B'Elanna called after the retreating woman.

"Herculanna- evidently in the local dialect it means courage and/or glory." Seven turned and gave B'Elanna the first real smile the half-Klingon felt she'd ever truly received before tapping her communicator and disappearing in blue wisps of a transporter beam.

_One month later…_

"So Bang'wI, I never did find out how you found me on Nemea Prime." Exhausted from their lovemaking, B'Elanna curled her sweating form against Seven's pale body highlighted by her implants that seemed to sparkle in the passing starlight. She pulled the golden fur blanket up to cover the two exhausted women and kissed her lover on her right cheek implant as she settled into welcoming arms.

"I had been following your progress the whole time from Astrometrics. Before that I had been observing you for several months while waiting for you to finally listen to your hearts."

B'Elanna propped herself up on one elbow and looked down into the blue depths of her lovers eyes. "You what? How did you- why did you reject me at first then?"

"I observed you. I am quite capable of determining the meaning of physical indicators, especially yours, since I concluded my research into Klingon culture and mating habits. Finally, I had to ascertain whether or not you were serious about your intentions. It was not difficult to determine that a test of your resolve would reveal the truth of your hearts to me. I had not however, intended for you to conquer a large beast to 'impress' me." The last part said as blue eyes narrowed in a clear message that reckless behaviour would not be tolerated where B'Elanna's safety was concerned.

"Well, I've never really been one to do things the easy way." She grinned down at her own vision of perfection lying beneath her.

"Indeed. Perhaps you can regale me once more with the tale of how you conquered the great beast."

"Ooorrrr… I can show you."

B'Elanna pulled the fur blanket over her shoulders before growling playfully and pounced upon the suddenly giggling ex-Borg.

~FIN~

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><p><strong>AN: I had something much better for Seven's last little speech but I completely lost it before I got a chance to write it down.**


	2. Chapter 2 The Nine Heads of Hate

Disclaimer: Characters ('cept those I create) and universe owned by Paramount

Rating: M

Pairing: B/7

A/N: This is the most angsty thing I've ever written and probably ever will write, but I believe in the silver lining so read to the end... part 2 of the 12 month challenge. Unbeta'd so let me know where I screwed up please!

1) Write a one-part fic each month, on any theme.

2) Each fic must be linked to the preceding one although it cannot be a continuation of the previous month's story.

3) At the end of the year, the work should be twelve separate one-shots linked together by a narrative with a beginning, middle and end.

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><p>The Trials of Herculanna and Sevcules<p>

Part 2: The Nine Heads of Hate

'_That damn stupid Borg. Stupid Borg bitch. Ice Princess. Arrogant, goddam beautiful and cocky and, and...'_

B'Elanna kicked the panel in the Jefferies tube holding the burnt out bio-neural gel-pack, one of seven, _of course,_ that blew that day during a new warp core mixture test because Seven had re-routed power from Decks Seven-through-Nine for her own 'impromptu' Astrometric sensor upgrades. She did not run her upgrades by the Chief of Engineering as she had already gotten the go ahead from the Captain. However, the Captain had advised her to notify Engineering about the project. The fact that she hadn't specifically told her **when** to notify Engineering encouraged the blonde ex-Borg to finish her upgrades as quickly as possible because, as the Doctor's Social Lesson 31 stated, "It is sometimes better to beg forgiveness than ask permission".

Having been delayed by Bridge requests and technical mishaps, Seven's upgrades came online at the exact time that B'Elanna's warp core mixture test was under its highest stress. Seven bio-neural gel-packs, fifteen EPS relays and several plasma grid connectors all blew, limiting power on Decks Five-through-Fifteen, basically bringing Voyager to a stand still. B'Elanna's initial assessment to the Captain was three days of repairs, two if she pushed it and the Captain told her to get started but to not overwork herself or her crew. These days it always seemed more a platitude or a bit of self-placating for the Captain to say these things as the Captain knew very well that B'Elanna would work herself to the bone to get it fixed.

Seven had sighed quietly to herself several times, debated with herself and was generally contrite about the whole situation and had prepared herself mentally to go and apologize to Voyager's Chief Engineer when the short brunette stormed into Astrometrics, something akin to soot marking her distinctive features, and tore a verbal strip off Seven the likes that hadn't been seen in the Delta Quadrant. Despite her animation, and the flailing limbs, B'Elanna never actually raised a hand to the ex-Borg no matter how much she desperately wanted to wrap her hands around the pale slender neck of her nemesis and squeeze. However, her words, each and every cutting remark, slur and derogatory comment did more damage to the emotionally inexperienced woman than physical violence ever could. At each insult Seven flinched and retreated into her Borg armour just a little more until there was nothing standing in front of Lieutenant Torres but a cold, blue-eyed statue of indifference.

It just made the half-Klingon more angry. But, before she could lose herself completely to her anger, she was able to make a decision- she'd simply cut the woman's existence out of her consciousness all together. Seven became nothing to her, and if she was nothing, then B'Elanna was just wasting her breath. So she left. Not once during her tirade did she look into Seven's eyes as she yelled, insulted and practically spat every hurtful thing she could have imagined. Had she done that, even in her rage, she might have seen the heartbreak deepening within the expressive blue eyes of the tall woman. But she didn't, and she hadn't.

B'Elanna didn't know that Seven had come to respect her. Not only respect, but admire. Not only admire, but... something more. And it was all shattered in a matter of moments. Seven had never felt so small. There were no other voices that she could allow herself to retreat into; to release herself to. There was only her and what had been said. The statuesque blonde began to quiver. The quivering turned into shaking; a whimper; a sob; a tortured inhalation. Finally, the normally composed form of Seven of Nine broke down into laboured breathing and pained tears, crumbling to the floor of Astrometrics, her body convulsing as each sob seemed to tear at her soul.

Forgetting about Seven had proven more difficult than B'Elanna thought. "Goddammit! All she had to do was say something, but noooo, the rest of us don't matter to miss-high-and-mighty Ice Queen. Shit, the only things she cares about are her Borg-dammed Astrometrics sensors and the Captain's approval... FUCK!" The panel was being stubborn and six hours into the repairs, B'Elanna already had no patience for it. She'd already fixed three EPS relays and two gel-packs and was making good time before she got to this one between Decks 14 and 15. She was deep in the bowels of Voyager now and had not eaten since morning.

"Tsk, tsk. There is only one species in this galaxy that has ships that respond favourably to such actions and profanities and I don't think you'd like to meet them."

B'Elanna's head whipped around so hard she nearly fell over. There, seated comfortably, was the annoyingly familiar form of Q. Dressed in his Command reds, of course.

"What the hell do you want?" She knew angering an omnipotent being was not a smart thing to do... somewhere deep down she did. She was sure of it. Maybe. Her ankle hurt from all the stomping on panels she'd been doing so B'Elanna decided to distract herself from her impending doom or Q-induced migraine she could feel coming on.

"Want? Moi? Such a loaded question. I want the answers I can't obtain. I want Jean-Luc to get over himself already and bend the good Doctor Crusher over his desk. Oh wait! My face on the one-dollar bill!" Q would never admit it, but the fact that humans, or in this case half-humans never seemed perturbed by the idea that he could literally turn them into a frog on a whim, always garnered a small measure of respect with the all-powerful being. A small, small measure, but a measure none the less. Besides, sticks-and-stones and all that, he was a freaking GOD for crying out loud- and in the case of a certain number of civilizations he dallied with, quite literally so.

"Yeah, yeah, you're a regular Cyrano de Bergerac. I don't have time for your fun and games Q, go bother the Captain." B'Elanna finally got the panel off and began to get to work opening her kit and preparing the replacement gel-pack she brought with her.

"Oh, Kathy does get so put-off by my generosity at times, I felt like bestowing my gift wisdom upon some of the more needy of Voyager's crew. And FYI, Gerard Depardieu was a Q- and completely magnificent in the role, if I might add." Q looked down at his nails lazily.

"Well good for the Q. Is there something specific you want or can I get back to work?" She decided that maybe the best way to get rid of the Q was to simply indulge his curiosity and be done with it.

"Right to the point. I like that, although usually Kathy indulges me in at least a few more moments of verbal sparring- which of course she knows she has no chance of winning- although, short of grunting and profanities, I suspect I would not receive the same eloquence from Voyager's Chief mongrel." His last words were pointed and had the desired affect.

B'Elanna fought back the futile urge to strangle the Q. Although, he might just let her which might have been a bit cathartic if she didn't think he'd simply laugh at her maniacally the whole time. Gritting her teeth and attempting to let the hurtful words melt away, she spoke. "Your point?"

Now the Q's behaviour took on his usual sarcastic melodramatic turn, purposely mocking, "Oh dear, did I strike a nerve? Did my WORDS hurt the big, strong Klingon?" At B'Elanna's restrained glare he continued. "While I do so hate interfering in the lives of you minor bipeds, I just can't stand all the heartbreak and angst. So, you will not be able to exit from this maze of Jefferies tubes until you make things right." And with a snap of his fingers and a flash of light, Q was gone.

"What the hell?" B'Elanna tapped her communicator, "Torres to the Bridge".

Silence.

"Torres to the Captain, respond."

Silence.

"Torres to anyone, respond."

Nothing.

"Computer initiate site to site transport, my location to Engineering."

The strong female tones of the computer responded. ~Unable to comply.~

"Why?" B'Elanna huffed in frustration and looked up. It was something of an unconscious habit to look up when speaking to a disembodied voice she supposed.

While it was the computer's voice that responded, it was Q's words. ~Because you need to make things right.~

"Dammit!" She didn't even know what it meant. "Make things right? Heartbreak and angst? What the heck is he talking about? I'm not experiencing any heartbreak- especially over Tom if that's what he is thinking. The Helmrat and his holographic skanks can have each other."

Deciding she had more important things to do anyway, B'Elanna got back to work.

Half an hour later she was done her work and ready to leave so she packed up her tools and crawled to the exit, opening the hatch. Stepping into the junction, B'Elanna nearly lost her grip on her toolkit. The hatch to the tube closed behind her and unless her eyes were deceiving her, there were now nine total hatches connected to the junction she was standing in. Only it wasn't a regular Jefferies tube junction, it was now some kind of polygon-shaped room with Jefferies tube hatches above her, below her and around her.

"...shit." Gathering what was left of her indignation, B'Elanna decided not to play Q's game and simply pick a hatch and go. Once inside the chosen hatch, she was once again shocked for the second time in as many minutes.

"Seven? What the hell are you doing here Borg? I thought I told you to stay as far away from anything even remotely connected to Engineering as possible!" B'Elanna felt her hackles raise at the sight of her most hated enemy and she couldn't help the seemingly instinctual outburst.

Seven didn't even acknowledge her as she continued her... what was she doing? More modifications? Repairs?

"...Seven?" It was more tentative this time. Something was not right. Seven was... shaking? She was shaking as she worked. B'Elanna felt something stir inside her and quickly squashed it down before crawling over to Seven to get into her face more directly. _'See if she can ignore me then.'_

As she got close to Seven and was about to grab her by the shoulder to spin her around and give her a piece of her mind, her hand froze only mere inches from its target.

Seven was crying. Silently, but crying. Tear streaks tracked down each cheek from glistening and pained blue eyes. Again, B'Elanna felt a pang of something she did not want to acknowledge in her chest. Seven was doing repairs, that much was certain and it looked like she was actually diverting power back from Astrometrics to the power grid.

B'Elanna remembered her earlier promise to herself and schooled her face into one of scorn yet again. "It's not enough, Borg." She crawled past Seven and exited the Jefferies tube at the opposite end from which she came.

This time the junction had just two connections. Rolling her eyes in frustration, she picked the one on her right and climbed in.

"No one wants to be your friend, freak. You're like deformed or something!" Little Johnny Morris began to laugh at her. B'Elanna felt so small once again. The memory cut through her like a knife. It didn't make sense, she'd come through a Jefferies tube, and there before her was a scene from her childhood. One of the most painful memories from when she had just wanted to play with some of the local kids. She was standing in the spot her seven-year-old self had been standing at the time and again she felt just as small and hurt as she did back then. She wanted to grab the smarmy punk by his throat and choke the life out of him but the pain was too much all of a sudden. She ran back the only way she knew and climbed back through the hatch.

Back at the junction B'Elanna seemed to regain a part of herself again as she shook herself out of the painful memory. She tried the other tube.

Everything looked different, like there was an over-lay to her vision. One layer was normal and the other was... enhanced. It was confusing. Not nearly as vile as the horrible, horrible... drink she was ingesting.

"...do dirty things to her if I could thaw that cold Borg frame..."

"...take her apart when we get back to the Alpha Quadrant, she doesn't even see it coming..."

"...touch more Nemean Lion extract and this Leola root lasagna will be my most spicy creation yet..."

Sounds from around the Mess hall were reaching her ears, but she remained still and impassive. B'Elanna wanted to throw up.

"...telling you Starfleet, outside she may have been shaped to be attractive, but it's only skin deep- after that, it is just twisted machine."

"You can't mean that Maquis, try giving her a chance already, you might find you have things in common."

*snort* "Right. Not going to happen. I won't tolerate any Borg circus' in my Engine room. I've got things to do, later Starfleet."

B'Elanna still couldn't move or feel anything but cold emptiness except for... shaking. Again. Imperceptible. She wanted to yell and she wanted to scream but it was no use. She did manage to finally escape again.

Back in the junction, B'Elanna began to hyperventilate. Waves of emotional pain crashed down upon her and she felt tears biting at the corners of her eyes aching for release. There was only one way out and that was back through the tube where Seven was. Steeling herself, she climbed back into the tube only to find it empty. Crawling past where Seven had been working she couldn't help but do a quick inspection. Seven had done a good job- not good, great.

Back in the junction with the nine Jefferies tube hatches, B'Elanna once again selected another at random.

Once again she closed the hatch behind her only to turn and find Seven once again working, this time replacing one of the gel-packs. B'Elanna sighed. "I've already replaced the one on this Deck, Seven. We don't have enough resources to produce these if they aren't needed." There was a weariness mixed in with her frustration. Once again, she was ignored- it seemed.

"I am NOT an unfeeling machine." Suddenly her enhanced hand snapped forward, punching a dent into a duranium Jefferies tube reinforcement. B'Elanna went wide-eyed. She'd never seen or heard Seven do or say things so emotionally. She'd also never witnessed the extent of the ex-Borg's strength. Had Seven snapped on her, B'Elanna had the sneaking suspicion that she would not be around to tell anyone about it. At best, she'd likely be the Doctor's roommate in Sick Bay for an extended duration. She wasn't sure what was worse: death by having her heart ripped out by a Borg-enhanced hand or being subject to the Doctor's latest rendition of the H.M.S Pinafore while confined to Sick Bay. Maybe there was something to be said about Seven and emotions after all. Either way, B'Elanna concluded that it would be safer to retreat for the moment.

It was not the same junction she had come from. This one again had two exits. B'Elanna was starting to get frustrated and she rubbed her temples absently for a moment before resigning herself to whatever lay beyond 'Door Number One'.

"I will not be responsible for my actions."

"You are a Starfleet officer, now act like one!"

"...fine."

She remembered that conversation with Chakotay, she didn't need to see it again in the Q-Christmas-Carol farce. Seven had appropriated with some equipment from Engineering without asking shortly after coming aboard Voyager and it had set her off. So many of the things Seven did had set her off in that first year. Her indifference to the plight of the Caati, a species decimated by the Borg, her constant use of 'irrelevant' and that damn outfit showing off her fantastic form all the while her face telling anyone who approached to 'fuck off' in that roundabout Borg way of hers. She was always convinced that it was some goddam Borg bit of fashion ingenuity no doubt to make the rest of Voyager's women inadequate. As if on 'que', the scene she was watching shifted.

"The design should help your biology adjust and mitigate the pain of the re-assertion of your newly regenerated organic systems. It is also by design, aesthetically pleasing. I also took the liberty of stimulating your hair follicles. A vicarious experience for me, as you might imagine."

There in a still mostly assimilated Cargo Bay 2 were the Captain, Chakotay and the Doctor looking smugly at Seven of Nine in her silver bio-suit. She looked positively uncomfortable as they spoke, taking in her surroundings which would become her new home.

This couldn't be right. The Doctor put her in those things? _Aesthetically pleasing?_ Did she not know how he really didn't get it? She looked so... scared? Unsure? B'Elanna had never seen the Bory-Seven look so uncomfortable. The Doctor, it seemed, had successfully indulged in some kind of warped Barbie dress-up and neither the Captain nor Chakotay had called him on it? Shit, the Captain just looked like a proud momma at a child's elementary school graduation and Chakotay just looked... distant.

B'Elanna was really starting to feel uncomfortable. Uncomfortable and upset. Uncomfortable, upset and sick. She backed out of the Jefferies tube she was in and continued her Q-enforced... quest? Six more times she crawled through a Jefferies tube with Seven in it, doing repairs while exhibiting all signs of being an emotional wreck. Not once did Seven acknowledge B'Elanna's presence as she passed her and B'Elanna felt oddly ashamed of even disturbing Seven by the time she got to the last of the two-junction Jefferies tubes.

The trip had so far not been pretty. B'Elanna had seen the worst moments in both her and Seven's lives. She'd seen- no, felt- little Annika's fear as her incredibly neglectful parents took their four year-old daughter into the Delta Quadrant, against orders, for two years before they were finally caught and assimilated. Only in the end did they even seem to care for the girl. She 'experienced' Seven's assimilation, heard the Borg Queen's haunting and seductive words of twisted encouragement to the woman-girl over the years during her time with the Borg. Felt the helplessness of being drowned out in a billion other voices; felt the inability to do anything but what you were designated to; felt the confusion of a little girl in a woman's body who had not known any other life.

Until Voyager. Then she felt the primal fear all over again. Felt Seven's panic at losing the only thing she understood- being one of many. One of the 'visions' had shown her Seven's smile, as small as it was, at the... limited praise from B'Elanna on occasion. She actually felt Seven's need for approval, not from the Captain, but from her. Seven, shit, Seven seemed to... respect her.

B'Elanna finally threw up in the junction to the last two tubes. She no longer felt she even had the right to look at Seven. She couldn't cut Seven out of her life, she should cut herself out of Seven's. She was nothing more than a constant source of incredible pain for the young woman. Everything that had come before seemed to twist itself in her consciousness like daggers of guilt.

Finally she managed to crawl into the second last tube. This one was the worst of all. She was once again experiencing Seven's side of a conversation- not just any conversation, the tirade B'Elanna had directed to her most recently in Astrometrics. Each cut, tear and rip on her heart was felt. Each retreat into her armour to try and stem the flow of pain. It was like bleeding from a thousand cuts and she only had bandages for two of them. She saw how she had not even looked into Seven's eyes. She saw herself leave. She saw and felt the following collapse.

B'Elanna had wished Seven had of lashed out at her. She deserved it. She deserved it and more. B'Elanna was a monster. She hated herself. Hate. It was a sickness that she'd been suffering from for so long, she didn't know if she could ever leave it behind. Hate for how she was treated growing up; hate for her Klingon heritage; hate for the Federation's lack of will regarding Bajor; hate for the Captain getting them stuck so far from home; hate for having to conform to Starfleet ideals; hate for allowing herself to justify a relationship with Tom; hate for the things the Borg had done; hate for Seven representing those things; hate for her own inadequacies compared to Seven... B'Elanna was so weary of the hate. She'd been able to let go of some of it over the years, she no longer hated the Captain, or Tom, but she had somehow held on to that hate for Seven- and in doing so had done the worst thing she had ever done. She'd broken the woman's heart. A heart she wouldn't even have acknowledged was there before.

Only a primal fear of a death alone prevented B'Elanna for screaming out loud and wishing to simply die in that tube. No, that wasn't the only thing. The lowest moment of her existence had passed surprisingly quickly. Something stirred within B'Elanna. She could never make it up, but she could start making it right. So much damage had been done to Seven by her hand and B'Elanna found that thought to be simply inexcusable. She could no longer allow herself to act with such dishonour. She could no longer allow the sickness of hate to control her. She was not a 'primitive mongrel' as Q had said- well, she _had_ been, but she would no longer be. She _could_ no longer be.

Jaw set, determination etched into her features, B'Elanna crawled into the last Jefferies tube. It was different this time- Seven was there. Working her ass off. More repairs. She looked like she hadn't regenerated, her plum-coloured bio-suit was dirty and several strands of her platinum blonde hair had left her usual severe bun and were dangling lightly across her strong features. B'Elanna's breath hitched, her hearts seemed to stop a moment as she finally SAW Seven of Nine. She saw all the times Seven had endured her abuse and still did her job. She saw Seven sacrifice time and time again for a crew who more or less simply tolerated her existence. She saw Seven go back to her alcove every night and step into a dreamless sleep in a public place as if she were a hammer placed on hooks in the wall of a shed.

Knowing Seven couldn't hear her, as she had suspected for a while that these encounters with Seven were simply another part of Q's lesson to her, B'Elanna nevertheless crawled to a position behind, but near Seven. She dropped her eyes to the flooring as she felt she no longer had the right to look at the woman.

"I know you can't really hear this. I know this is all a part of Q's weird idea of an intervention. But... none of that matters. I cannot continue until I say this. I will find you later and tell you for real but I don't think I could survive until then if I didn't say it now. I am a coward. I allowed this cowardice into me as a child after it spawned from fear. However, I couldn't stand the idea of being a coward, so I turned to the only thing that kept me from feeling it- hate. I allowed hate to dictate so much of my life not realizing how much I not only hurt myself, but others. Because hate was easy, and I am a coward. I won't... I can't allow hate to have this hold over me any more, it is a sickness I want to be free of. I've- I've been such a monster to you Seven. I've allowed my jealousy, fear and pride fuel my hate and direct it at the one person who never should have been subject to it, ever. I should have been the first to stand up and guide you through the transition from victim and slave to a person. But I didn't. Instead, I just made it that much harder for you because it dulled my own pain over my past problems with finding acceptance. That makes me the worst of all. Others can just be unkind because they simply don't know better- or rather that they don't know the other side and choose to be unkind because they can.

"I was unkind _knowing_ the pain it causes. Knowing the hurt. That makes me the worst. And I said it all to your face while you took it all and defended yourself to the best of your ability not having had any experience with this kind of thing before. I might as well have been putting Naomi Wildman down for kicks while I was at it. I am low. So low. So far beneath you- and here I thought I was going to, in my anger and hate, cut _you_ out of my life... when I'm the one who should be removed from _your_ sight. You're beautiful, brilliant and you intimidate the hell out of me with your confidence. I'm so sorry I couldn't have just said these things to your face a long time ago and worked with you, helped you, let you know that you were never alone, that you would never be alone.

"I understand why you wouldn't be eager to tell me about the upgrades to Astrometrics knowing how I'd react on principle. Knowing how I constantly reject your ideas out of spite knowing that they are brilliant... well, for the most part- I'm still not going to cut you any slack. But... if after I've told you all this for real and you still want to ever have me in the same room, I promise not to hold your past against you. I promise to encourage you, to inspire you, to tell you when you're being a dumb-ass, when you're being brilliant and I promise most of all to not be a coward. I promise to not to turn to hate in fear of my feelings, the feelings that I'm now realizing have always been there- that I feel... well, you certainly don't deserve to be punished by having me tell you how I'm- I... shit."

A tear finally escaped the wide pools of brown that were B'Elanna's eyes. It dropped to the flooring of the Jefferies tube she was staring at, followed by another, a hitched breath, and another until she could not hold it back any longer. B'Elanna finally understood all of her ignorance regarding her own feelings. She had feelings for Seven. Feelings that would no longer ever be returned because of her own small-minded hate. Seven had been right. She was small. This was the darkest place she had ever been and ever could be in.

But there was the smallest hint of a glow. A tiny light in the darkness. Focusing on it, B'Elanna noticed that it got brighter. And brighter. Finally, the shine was cutting through the bottom-of-a-lake nature of her tears. A reflection- a reflection of light of a metal surface. A silver-metallic surface. A silver-metallic surface that was suddenly touching her chin, gently urging her to raise her head. She closed her eyes. She didn't want to see. If she saw anger, she would understand, but if she saw hate, she would crumble again.

"I forgive you."

Three words. Three simple words that could have such an effect, she didn't think it was possible. Her eyes snapped open only to be lost in the bluest pools of expressed emotion she had ever seen. Forgiveness. Love. Caring.

Seven had her enhanced fingers touching B'Elanna's chin in the softest manner she could in urging the brunette to lift her head as she gazed back into B'Elanna's own brown eyes trying to convey everything she felt for the woman. There had been pain, yes, but there was a stronger emotion. This was something that B'Elanna had unknowingly taught her- there was a stronger emotion than hate, it was love. So, even after she had broken down in Astrometrics, she'd grabbed hold of that surviving spark of love within her like a lifeline and simply let in envelop her.

She couldn't sit and do nothing while the damage she was responsible for was being fixed by others so Seven had gone to Engineering, talked to Joe Carey and gotten B'Elanna's repair schedule. She'd spent the next 14 hours doing repairs in sections she didn't think B'Elanna would be in lest she spark her ire once more. She just wanted to help and if doing so out of B'Elanna's sight was the best she could do, the best way to hold on to the love she had inside for her, then that's what she was going to do. She'd broken down a couple times doing the repairs, damaged a part of one of the Jefferies tubes she had been in and was still shaken and crying when she decided to transfer some power back into the power grid from Astrometrics, but she continued to work. To work for B'Elanna; so B'Elanna wouldn't have to continue to suffer due to her.

So it had come as a shock to her when B'Elanna had entered the Jefferies tube on Deck 6. Her last position report on B'Elanna from the main computer had said she was between Decks 14 and 15 not ten minutes earlier. She'd frozen momentarily not knowing what to do and then decided that if she continued to work, perhaps she'd have been left alone. Then B'Elanna had begun to speak and Seven felt paralyzed. B'Elanna seemed to think she was some kind of illusion created by a Q. She almost said something before B'Elanna mentioned that she was going to say it to her for real. Quietly and carefully she'd turned to watch B'Elanna give her confession. When B'Elanna finally broke down, it was too much for Seven and she had to reach out to her.

"Wh-why?" It was the only thing B'Elanna could think of to say. Somehow she now knew that this wasn't an illusion, but the real Seven yet still she didn't feel like she deserved forgiveness.

"You said it yourself, hate is a sickness, anger and pain are symptoms and side effects. You have also taught me the cure: love. I could not hold on to the pain while there was still love, just like I do not think you will hold on to the anger if you know there is love both within you and for you. So I forgive you because it is the only thing I can do because I love you B'Elanna Torres." Seven meant every word and B'Elanna could feel each word touch her soul, healing it and filling its previously empty other half- a half now completed by Seven of Nine, former tertiary adjunct to Unimatrix Zero-One of the Borg Collective.

"What if I can't forgive myself?" It was the last vestige of a life of telling herself she wasn't good enough, smart enough or pretty enough. However, the battle had already been won when Seven had entered the field. Cowardice, fear, doubt and hate stood no chance against the stubbornness of a Borg in love.

"You can because you are no coward. I do not believe you ever truly were, but even if you think you were, you know you are now not. These are the last gasps of doubt within you B'Elanna Torres. I- I cannot ask you to love me simply because I confess a love for you, but if you do have positive feelings for me, use them to give you strength if what I feel for you is not enough." Seven could actually see the physical and psychological victory within B'Elanna as she finally accepted, truly accepted her words and forgave herself. Then, just as quickly, within B'Elanna's brown eyes she saw something she had hoped for but not expected- love.

B'Elanna let out a final breath as her soul found its purchase within her and just pulled Seven into her arms and held her as close as she could, her face resting in the crook of Seven's beautiful neck. She smiled. "Of course I love you. I can't not, not any more." Seven had responded almost immediately and she was now breathing quickly, her heart still beating above normal parameters, within B'Elanna's embrace, a gentle, peaceful smile upon her face.

"Well, it looks like my work here is done." Q was back, reclined in the Jefferies tube a few feet from the entangled women. B'Elanna didn't care. Seven didn't care; they both had more important things to do, like hold each other and sit together with silly grins, wiping the tears from each others faces and whispering sweet nothings to each other. "It is so rare when true soul mates actually even exist at the same time, let alone encounter each other. I couldn't just sit by and let this foolishness continue- of course, I just provide the medium, but you two did the work- Seven I knew would pull her own weight, but I must say Chief Torres, I am impressed."

B'Elanna wanted to say "get lost Q", but what ended up coming out was, "Thank you Q." Even Seven pulled back a bit to look B'Elanna over with a questioning gaze. This was not some other B'Elanna Torres, was it? B'Elanna saw Seven's look and just chuckled before moving back into her new favourite spot snuggled into Seven's neck.

Q seemed just as surprised as Seven, if it were so possible for an omnipotent being to be as such. "Could I have been so wrong in my comparison of you to Kathy? Such incredible manners! For that, I'll leave you two lovebirds a gift." A snap of fingers and a flash of light later and Q was gone. In his place in the Jefferies tube sat a golden fur blanket, folded neatly.

~FIN~


	3. Chapter 3 The Golden BeHind

**A/N:**

**Disclaimer: Characters ('cept those I create) and universe owned by Paramount**

**Rating: T... M?**

**Pairing: B/7**

**A/N: Ok! Got this finished under the wire! Life, reading wonderful fanfiction on this website and the drama of Mass Effect 3 have kept me from really getting a lot of writing done. Sorry! I'm still writing R&D I just have to figure out the specifics of how things are going to work moving forward. No angst in this one. I wanted it to have a bit more of a 'silly' feel, but I kind of got a bit carried away at the beginning and had to reel myself back in. While not as silly as I had hoped, I think it is still fun. Enjoy!**

**1) Write a one-part fic each month, on any theme.**

**2) Each fic must be linked to the preceding one although it cannot be a continuation of the previous month's story.**

**3) At the end of the year, the work should be twelve separate one-shots linked together by a narrative with a beginning, middle and end.**

* * *

><p>The Trials of Herculanna and Sevcules<p>

Part 3

The Golden (Be)Hind

Curled up together in the most comfortable golden fur blanket- a blanket that B'Elanna had finagled out of an exotic trader they encountered in the last system they travelled through- both B'Elanna Torres and Seven of Nine let out small sighs of contentment after another long day in the Delta Quadrant aboard the U.S.S. Voyager as it made its way back home. This was B'Elanna's favourite time of the day. The same could likely be said for Seven who had never known the true closeness of personal contact before she had finally set her sights on the short (tempered?) brunette that ran the Engineering department on Voyager.

"What do you call a group of Q's?" The question was innocent enough and barely above a whisper as B'Elanna snuggled further into Seven's embrace, inhaling her scent and placing light kisses along the statuesque blonde's enticing neck. It still garnered _Raised Metallic Brow Variation Three- Amused Confusion_ in response from Seven of Nine, former Tertiary Adjunct to Unimatrix Zero-One though.

"I believe, Bang'wI, that that is the definition of a non sequitur. Were we not just talking about the power transfer rates in the Warp core?" Seven knew she was intelligent and she knew she could multi-task, but conversations that did not follow direct lines of thinking always frustrated her in some small way as she usually felt as if she were missing some deeper meaning to the practice that all sentients aboard Voyager seemed to just 'get'.

"We _were_, now we're not. Besides, you and I argue about Engineering stuff all day, I just want to enjoy our alone time a bit with some non-work related conversation." B'Elanna perked up a bit smiling mischievously and climbed atop her blonde beauty, moving the blanket off them and straddling her hips while continuing to pepper the porcelain skin with small kisses.

"Your current activity suggests you would like to enjoy our time in a manner that does not require coherent dialogue." Seven's heart rate had begun to climb as her body reacted to the attention and touch it was receiving with the same intensity it always did with B'Elanna.

B'Elanna loved how undone she could make her lover with a little attention and smiled a bit at the soft shudders that rippled through the lithe form beneath her after each kiss. But her intentions this time were not to begin a prolonged lovemaking session. She snickered lightly. "I can multi-task. You just lie there and enjoy things, I promise I won't bite-"

"I have no issues with biting." Seven interjected, breathless.

"-hard." Another shiver surged through the increasingly aroused ex-Borg. B'Elanna stifled a giggle as she began to pepper each piece cybernetic evidence of Seven's time with the Borg with kisses knowing it always made her blonde beauty relax and feel truly loved.

"I'm serious though, it's been bugging me for a while now." B'Elanna had propped herself on her right elbow and gave Seven a quick smile and wink before getting back to 'work'.

Seven was torn between full-body arousal and confused incredulity. "You are being serious." It was a statement. "Why has the linguistic term defining a 'group' of the entities known as the Q 'been bugging' you for a while?" Seven's hands had decided that they were not going to be left out of this encounter so they began to softly caress any and all tanned flesh they could.

B'Elanna stopped her ministrations and climbed up her lover's nude form to look into her blue eyes. She shrugged. "Dunno. We're always having to deal with Q and all- including his pervert son- and… I don't know, it just popped into my head one day and I haven't come up with a great answer. I thought the Collective may have had a term for them or something."

Deciding not to comment on the Borg Collective's policy regarding 'irrelevant' information, Seven nonetheless searched her eidetic memory to see if there indeed was a term defining a group of the Q.

What Seven didn't realize was that during her time spent with B'Elanna she had adopted the occasional habit of sticking her tongue partially out of the side of her mouth when she was thinking on an 'irrelevant' subject while completely relaxed. B'Elanna loved it and loved that she was the only one who ever got to see the beautiful ex-Borg with her hair down, splayed about their pillows and her tongue sticking out in thought as her hands traced unconscious symmetrical and geometric patterns on the nude form of her half-Klingon lover.

"The Borg knew of the Q but other than the fact that they were unable to assimilate them or affect them in any way, there is no relevant data on what a 'group' of the Q may be called."

"Huh, so I guess if a Q ever showed up on a cube they wouldn't get the whole "Resistance is futile" spiel then, huh?"

It was a curious thought. Seven concluded that it was unlikely due to the fact that the standard Borg first communication was done over the full spectrum of hailing frequencies when they encountered a vessel or colony they deemed distinctive enough for assimilation. Since Q did not use space-faring vessels for travel, the idea had never been put to the test.

"There is only one recorded interaction between a Q and the Borg that I know of. A single drone attempted to assimilate the Q. The Q laughed and turned the entire compliment of drones on the cube into four-legged Tuchankan Vorcha for three minutes before disappearing. The cube suffered damage to several key systems as a result of the stoppage in maintenance and all other work on the cube due to the Q's intervention. Standard protocol of the Collective was to ignore the Q from then on."

B'Elanna paused her ministrations once more, "Huh… so what about… a 'spell' of Q's?" The cocky grin earned her a small growl and return grin from Seven before she claimed her brunette's lips in a forceful kiss. As the moment grew into minutes, B'Elanna was beginning to suspect her lover was trying to distract her. She was right. Seven had been thinking long and hard about the question, but she also concluded that B'Elanna really just wanted to have a bit of a 'silly' conversation. She would not disappoint her lover.

"Keeping the theme, I put forth an 'alphabet' of Q's for consideration." Seven pulled back from a now thoroughly flustered B'Elanna and deadpanned her reply as best as she could. The sudden smile and sound of laughter that burst forth from B'Elanna was the exact reaction she had hoped for. Her own smile bloomed as the small very naked brunette shook in laughter above her.

"Kahless Soch, you are priceless. I love you and I am so happy you put up with my insanity."

"It is not difficult, you rarely attempt the same action under the same circumstances while expecting a different result," at B'Elanna's I-know-there-is-an-engineering-jab-in-here-somewhere look, Seven couldn't help her own smirk, "unless it is entering an incorrect dilithium matrix mixture ratio."

"_There_ it is. You're lucky I'm crazy about you."

"Indeed I am. Considering my own… insanity while pursuing you…" Seven looked away briefly, momentarily caught up in old thoughts. A gentle hand on her cheek guided her back to gaze into deep brown eyes above her.

"Hey, hey. Never doubt yourself. You didn't while you chased me and I drove you crazy. Your stubborn determination is one of your traits I'm most thankful for." B'Elanna gave Seven one more kiss before sliding back to Seven's side, keeping their legs intertwined and snuggling into her taller lover's neck contently. Her earlier energy was waning into contented bliss.

"Hmm… you still have not told me what you think of my suggestion." Seven could already hear B'Elanna's heartbeat begin to slow so she pulled the golden fur blanket around them. B'Elanna let out a small yawn.

"It's clever, 'an alphabet of Q's', I like it. You win, and without even a fuss out of me, remember this day Princess, remember this day…" B'Elanna finally drifted off to sleep in Seven's arms. The blue-eyed blonde laid a gentle kiss upon her Klingon's forehead before gently tightening her grip on her lover's strong frame. Her thoughts drifted back to a time almost two years ago…

"_I apologize Mr. Paris, but my answer is still no." Seven continued on her path to Astrometrics attempting to ignore the sandy haired man-child who fancied himself the 'pilot' of a large, mostly automated starship. The ability to press 'go' or 'stop' did not impress the former Borg in the least. Especially when compared to his former girlfriend, B'Elanna Torres who could detect a misalignment in the warp nacelles both by sound and feel; who could work marvels of engineering with a spanner set and two cups of raktajino; who could-_

"_But why? I've got the holodeck time, I'm the helmsman for Alpha Shift on Voyager, I'm a Lieutenant-"_

"_Junior Grade Lieutenant, yes, I am aware of your rank Mr. Paris, also that it is provisional and that you have previously been demoted to Ensign." Seven was starting to understand the need to express exasperation through the physical act known as 'the sigh'._

_Tom at least had the good sense to look humbled- for a second. "I don't get it, I get no respect around here and yet it is obvious that you and the Captain and everyone else seem have some kind of major respect for B'Elanna, who's the same rank as me." The sight of a grown man pouting in self-pity was something that Seven also discovered was 'a major turn-off' as Jenny Delaney would say. Despite her research and the Doctor's efforts, Seven had concluded that she was more attracted to the female compliment of Voyager- well, one female in particular._

"_Lieutenant Torres did not join the Maquis to 'get back' at her father. She believed in their cause of justice for the Bajoran people and she never wavered from that belief. She did not dishonour herself by turning on them either." She had stopped walking and levelled the 'helmsman' with her best Borg glare. "Lieutenant Torres is also the head of the entire Engineering Department on Voyager, which she has gained through merit; her skill and expertise has gotten this ship through circumstances that another in her place would not have been able to. She works tirelessly for this crew and receives little reward. During your time with her, you saw her as something that you would always have and therefore something that you could ignore for your more juvenile pursuits. Given the choice, I would much rather B'Elanna Torres as a mate than you."_

_Neither Seven nor Tom could guess who was more surprised at Seven's outburst. Seven was wondering just how she had allowed herself to express her most secret feelings to the fool standing in front of her and Tom was wondering just how he could use this delicious piece of gossip to his advantage, completely oblivious to being shot down like a WWI fighter pilot in the Red Baron's sights._

_Seeing no need to waste any more time with Paris, Seven turned and continued to Astrometrics, slightly flustered at her own actions. Tom began his trek back to the bridge, the miss-aligned wheels of his childish mind spinning in glee like the Tazmanian Devil boring through a tree over his planned machinations._

"_So Seven's got a thing for B'Elanna, hmmm? Well, if I know Lanna, and I think I do, she'll shoot Seven down faster than Harry's heart gets broken every week. As a bonus, the Captain, who clearly has a think for 'ole Lanna will be furious with Seven. I wonder if I'll be able to make Seven grovel when she comes back to me… yes Tom Paris, you *are* a super-genius!" His spontaneous maniacal laughter in the turbo lift was interrupted by several befuddled bridge backup crew leaving their stations for lunch._

_And so, over the next several weeks Paris put his plan into motion, constantly hinting to Seven that B'Elanna was available and possibly receptive to advances. Seven, not being stupid, did not believe Tom's false sincerity for one moment, but still the urge to get closer to the volatile half-Klingon was becoming more difficult to resist. Seven was finding herself with an elevated heart rate and the capillaries in her neck and cheeks seemed to constantly fill with blood whenever she was around B'Elanna. She noticed more and more that each time she caught sight of the golden trim of B'Elanna's uniform, her internal equilibrium stabilizers would seem to malfunction an her augmented ball-and-socket joints in her knees would falter. It was like catching a glimpse of the Omega particle… or at least a mythical creature. Seven also noticed that her optical implant would track B'Elanna's movements when they were in proximity, paying special attention to the Chief Engineer's firm buttocks._

_Finally, one day while arguing over the best approach for doing a fuel injector diagnostic while at warp 3, Seven blurted out an invitation to the holodeck. While the reaction was not what she was hoping for, and internally Seven was berating herself for her own frank awkwardness, the blush that rose to B'Elanna's face before she made a lame excuse to see the Doctor and rushed off gave Seven a glimmer of hope. She wasn't met with anger, indifference or an insult before the fiery brunette fled Engineering. Once again catching herself staring at B'Elanna's behind, Seven grew more determined than ever to claim the flighty beauty._

_The next several weeks saw Seven growing more and more confident in her interactions with the Chief Engineer, as brief as they were at times- B'Elanna seemed to take flight with an audible squeak whenever Seven approached her. While Seven believed that she could outrun the smaller brunette in a proper setting, her high heels and B'Elanna's agility made nearly impossible to catch the golden trimmed half-Klingon with the behind she coveted so much through the halls of Voyager. Instead of getting discouraged, however, the chase was only making the blonde beauty's resolve strengthen. She was Borg after all… well, ex-Borg anyway and ex-Borg did not quit, especially ex-Borg that understood the concept of hope._

_While some might say Seven was not properly schooled in the art of seduction, she certainly wasn't above putting her constant research to the test. The problem was, she couldn't get B'Elanna to stay in one place long enough in order to give her plans the time to work. She even at one point tried using Borg-enhanced force fields to catch the slippery Engineer, but B'Elanna escaped into a Jefferies tube and used a site-to-site transport masked with Maquis encryption codes. Another time, she attempted to pin the beautiful brunette against a console by placing her own leg between B'Elanna's and pinning her with her hips. B'Elanna managed to escape when Harry Kim entered Engineering, saw the two of them in a secluded area, fainted and hit his head on a nearby bulkhead. Seven's instinct to help her friend distracted her long enough for B'Elanna to make her escape._

_Meanwhile, Tom Paris, who had not been exactly thrilled with either Seven's persistence nor B'Elanna's reactions, decided to bring in the big gun- Janeway. Letting it slip on the bridge one day that Seven and B'Elanna might be starting a little something, Tom watched his Captain for any visible cracks in her usually unwavering command mask. No one noticed that Harry had fainted until the Captain asked for a sensor update on the sector they were travelling through. After the Doc came and gave Harry some smelling salts and told him to get more iron in his diet, to which Tom giggled, the Captain excused herself from the bridge in favour of her Ready Room. "Excellent," thought Tom, "she's probably thinking of ways to keep the Borg and Lanna apart… Tom Paris, SUPER-genius…"._

_The fantasy of Tom's mind did not, of course, live up to reality. The Captain, had, in fact gone to her Ready Room to think on the B'Elanna/Seven situation, but the conversation she was planning to have with Seven was not going to be what Paris would have envisioned. Yes, the Captain was well aware of the gossip suggesting she had romantic feelings for her Chief Engineer. Had she thought it might impact ship's business, she might have even put a crushing stop to it, but since it didn't, it was really of no concern to her. No, she looked upon B'Elanna as a surrogate daughter, one that had a rough childhood that she felt the need to guide into becoming the person she could be- and Janeway was incredibly proud of the person B'Elanna Torres had become since joining Voyager. _

_Her only concern was the young woman's happiness and after seeing how Tom treated her, she felt a protectiveness regarding any potential suitor for her Chief Engineer, even if she had to keep it to herself. With Seven, however, things were different. Another black sheep taken into her flock, Seven presented a unique challenge in herself. She couldn't help a small part of her that worried that Seven may be more interested in the 'research' aspects of dating B'Elanna without being aware of the emotional aspects of such a relationship. She did not want to see either woman hurt and would have to ascertain Seven's intentions. Suddenly, Janeway understood why her father gave everyone she ever brought home such a hard time…_

_Now, Janeway *planned* to have a conversation with her resident ex-Borg on just what her intentions might be towards Voyager's Chief of Engineering as soon as possible. It would be a subtle conversation if Janeway could pull it off but knowing the usually direct nature of Seven of Nine, she suspected she may end up with a headache regardless. Unfortunately, as things were wont to do in the Delta Quadrant, plans changed. The Captain had been walking with Commander Chakotay on Deck Four when they turned a corner to practically run into Seven of Nine carrying a seemingly unconscious B'Elanna Torres._

"_Seven!" exclaimed a flabbergasted Kathryn Janeway. She'd thought the blonde might engage in a somewhat aggressive approach in her pursuit of B'Elanna, but she couldn't help wondering just how far off her immediate thoughts of Seven clubbing B'Elanna over the head might be given the ex-Borg's tendency for research and the scene she was witnessing before her. Chakotay was his usual unhelpful self, smirking at the Captain's clear discomfort. If she hadn't brought herself to punch the man before, she wouldn't start today, Janeway was a model Starfleet Officer after all._

"_Captain, if you and the Commander will excuse me, I must get Lieutenant Torres to Sickbay-" Janeway was already rubbing the bridge of her nose._

"_Seven, please tell me you didn't club B'Elanna over the head, I know you have been pursuing her romantically, but you can't- *sigh* Seven, I consider myself a bit of a guardian to B'Elanna and I don't want to see her hurt emotionally or physically because you got a bit overzealous in your research." _

_Seven seemed aghast. The gasp that escaped her lips was decidedly un-Borg-like. B'Elanna might have even thought it to be cute had she been conscious._

"_I assure you Captain, my intentions towards Lieutenant Torres are entirely noble and I would never harm B'Elanna. In fact, I had finally got her to stay in one place long enough to engage her in personal conversation, she seemed to quite enjoy my warp core augmentation proposal and had what she called an 'epiphany'. Unfortunately as she began to run towards her office for reasons I am yet unaware, she collided with Mr. Neelix who had shown up in Engineering to recruit volunteers for his 'Running with the Bulls' holodeck experience. Before I could catch her, she hit her head first against Mr. Neelix's own forehead and then again on the floor. After Mr. Neelix assured me he would be 'fine', I proceeded to carry Lieutenant Torres to Sick Bay. Mr. Neelix is currently making his way to Sick Bay from Engineering as well with what he called a 'head ache'."_

_With a small satisfied grunt, Janeway moved out of Seven's way so she could continue to Sick Bay. "Oh, and Seven?" Janeway said causing Seven to pause briefly and look back at her._

"_Yes Captain?" _

"_Don't-don't tell her that I… um-" She knew B'Elanna was a proud woman and didn't need to be 'mothered' but Janeway couldn't really help being protective, especially after Paris._

_The smallest hint of a knowing smile caused the edges of Seven's lips to curve gently and Janeway suddenly *knew* that this would be good for both women. "I will not mention that you are 'sizing up' B'Elanna's potential suitors." Now Seven grinned and Janeway couldn't help but mirror the happy expression. Chakotay seemed to have his grin permanently etched on his face._

_Janeway finally gave Seven a small nod and shooed her away. "Carry on Seven, and… I approve."_

_The slightest of nods was returned and Seven continued her trek to Sick Bay with the love of her life in her arms. Had the circumstances been better, it might have been more romantic but the full smile blooming on Seven's face said more than enough. It had finally taken a change of tactics and a bit of fate, but Seven was confident she had finally caught her illusive gold-trimmed Engineer with the amazing behind._

~FIN~


	4. Chapter 4 The Talaxian Boar

**Disclaimer: Characters and universe ('cept those I create) are owned by Paramount.  
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**Rating: T-M (few swear words)  
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**Pairing: B/7  
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**A/N:** **Man I am sooo sorry. I started this April 20th and just could not figure out how to finish it. So I totally missed the deadline. BUT, I am going to get the next part out this month come hell or high water. So a few things, it is unbeta'd so all the mistakes are someone's else as I refuse to accept responsibility. What? Oh... I can't do that... fine. The mistakes are mine.**

** Anyway, look, I really tried at the start (like the third paragraph) to write Chakotay seriously... but he just brings it out of me. Same with Tom, it really is too much fun and I don't think I'll ever stop. The POV will switch over the shoulders of a few characters and I hope it is not too confusing. **

**Oh, and the rules:**

**1) Write a one-part fic each month, on any theme.**

**2) Each fic must be linked to the preceding one although it cannot be a continuation of the previous month's story.**

**3) At the end of the year, the work should be twelve separate one-shots linked together by a narrative with a beginning, middle and end.**

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><p>The Trials of Herculanna and Sevcules<p>

Part 4: The Talaxian Boar

"I am never… not **ever**, Captain- no more 'mandatory' holodeck party attendance!" Another arrow flew over her hastily ducking head as the bulk of the Federation starship USS Voyager's senior staff took cover.

The 'party' at the base of Mt. Erymanthos had gone, one might say, a bit 'cock-eyed'.

"Careful B'Elanna-"Chakotay began as they heard yet another bellow from the hills above. "Stuff it Chakotay! This has to be one of Helmrat's more spectacular holodeck failures and I'm sick of being forced to go to them!" The sound of hooves moving toward their position silenced any rebuttal from Voyager's oh-so-bland First Officer and said 'Helmrat' who was looking quite pale at the moment; shaking and wide-eyed.

Sensing the hoofed creature's movements to her left, B'Elanna Torres, Voyager's Chief Engineer and half-Klingon, let out a war cry before leaping up onto the downed tree she was using for cover and vaulted off it on to the back of the half-man, half-horse scanning the woods for a target with his bow pulled taut, arrow at the ready.

Catching the creature by surprise, B'Elanna wrapped her legs around the human torso half from the creature's back and put the large centaur into a choke hold to bring the beast down. Unfortunately, or fortunately (as at least B'Elanna, Seven and perhaps Tuvok- given the microscopic movement of his left or 'asshole' brow as it had come to be known- might have thought) the centaur let the arrow finally fly as he slipped into unconsciousness.

If there ever was truer evidence of a wise and just Kahless the Mighty looking down upon B'Elanna, it was certainly given when the soon-to-be-fabled arrow found its mark in the right buttock of one Thomas Eugene Paris III- whom at the very moment B'Elanna courageously leapt to the defence of her fellow comrades- had decided to attempt to slink away like a scared Tika cat on his hands and knees.

While the resulting yelp and cry of pain were immediately attended to by both the Captain and the Doctor, B'Elanna grabbed the downed centaur's bow and quiver- notching an arrow and pulled back on the string- sweeping the area for enemies as her primal warrior's instincts took over. With the holodeck program permanently set to mid-morning, the rays of sunlight cut through the green canopy and soft brown forest illuminating B'Elanna's strong form and reflected off her slightly bronzed skin where she had begun to perspire.

Her posture was low; left leg forward and bent at the knee forming a strong base to allow her to cover the area with her bow by twisting at her waste. Normally, the small half-Klingon was an imposing figure by the energy she gave off even in her Starfleet uniform. Today however, she was wearing what most everyone else was wearing for Tom's "Mythology Dayz" holodeck week of parties- basically it was what amounted to a white cloth tunic and leather belt synching at her waste with the cloth dropping between her legs, in front and behind, half way to her knees. Her arms were bare from the shoulder and there were three ties on either side beneath her armpits to her waste, tying the tunic's front and back faces together, giving tantalizing glimpses of her bare ribcage and firm torso underneath. Her legs were bare from the hip down to the leather-laced sandals on her feet that were strapped in a criss-cross fashion up to the top of her calves and tied off. She wore a white sports bra underneath the tunic and matching 'boy cut' underwear beneath what amounted to a simple small cloth tied off at each hip providing at least some coverage for one's modesty- Paris had said it would be more authentic to go 'commando' as the ancient Greek and Romans did, but a look from B'Elanna had put a final end to that discussion those weeks prior.

The outfits were yet another part of this whole experience that she'd vehemently argued against participating in until Seven had walked into the Mess hall to confirm with Paris the 'authenticity' of her outfit. Harry had been that close to getting his first thought- why Seven would ever ask Tom to confirm the authenticity of a costume- out when he and B'Elanna (and let's be honest, the bulk of the room) nearly fell off their chairs when the tall blonde walked in, her golden tresses freed from her usual severe bun and styled up in a classic 'updoo' with a silver clasp; the flowing material of her ancient Greek toga-style dress was thrown over one shoulder and synched at the waste with the material flowing down over her legs and about the floor around her feet. B'Elanna had never seen Seven so covered up and yet so ethereally beautiful. Only her shoulders and arms were bare, showing the few remaining marks of her time with the Borg. She was breathtaking. B'Elanna decided at that moment she'd participate- but she wasn't wearing a dress; she opted to go for what the guys would be wearing.

"Oh for- Doc, shut him up! Chakotay, for crying out loud, if you're going to do an impression of a tree, at least pick up a stick and stand in front of the Captain!" B'Elanna barked out the orders as she made sure there were no more immediate threats. While 'taking charge' was normally the Captain's 'thing', she had been quite honestly shocked into submission at how (once again) the holodeck and fate, it seemed, could continually conspire against her and her ship. For a few moments after everything went to pot she was kept busy by contemplating the series of events leading to this latest fiasco- but her Starfleet training began to take over as she got to Paris with the Doctor. She surveyed the area and began to form a strategy while they had gotten a moment to get their bearings thanks to B'Elanna.

It was in that moment after B'Elanna picked up the bow that Seven of Nine, former Tertiary Adjunct to Unimatrix Zero One, had her first epiphany. Often, in the past, it was _she_ that caused the _brunette's_ heart to skip or beat faster. Oh, it had taken her a while to fully understand the effect she had on the Lieutenant, but Seven _had_ figured it out. She just had never been sure what to do about it. But those were thoughts for another time. Currently, she was frozen in the moment- her heart ceased to function properly, operating at above optimal parameters; her skin produced thousands of tiny bumps where hair follicles might have been, spreading across her body like a wave crashing upon a calm shore causing her to shudder slightly; her cortical node seemed to malfunction as her optical sensors recorded and analyzed the image of B'Elanna as what an old Earth poet might have described as a 'Greek Warrior Goddess'.

_B'Elanna Torres was very strong and got to kick ass and take charge._

Never had Seven had such an... un-Seven-like thought. Crouched behind another tree and watching B'Elanna 'do her thing', Seven never felt more human. It was only ever B'Elanna who could really make Seven surprise herself with her own reactions. Oh, but the Captain would plead with her to "be more of an individual" and the Doctor tried his best to 'teach' her social customs, but neither of them really helped Seven to feel even remotely human. In fact, most of what they did only highlighted how different Seven really was. B'Elanna never asked her to be human, but neither did she say she should be anything other than she was- a huge pain in the half-Klingon's ass.

Crouched as she was and gathering the copious amounts of cloth comprising of her attire should she need to move quickly, Seven quickly composed herself and attempted to determine a course of action to take that would help B'Elanna Torres without it appearing as if Seven thought she needed help. Now was not the time to purposely aggravate the brunette holding a notched bow.

Seven smirked ever-so-slightly to herself even though she knew objectively it was not the time for such and indulgence. Her quite enjoyable pastime she dubbed "Ex-Borg Protocol Number One: Irritate or Fluster B'Elanna Torres" would have to be put on hold for the moment- her Collective, or rather part there of (excluding Tom Paris, of course) - was in danger. Coincidentally, "Ex-Borg Protocol Number Two: Eliminate Tom Paris" seemed to be doing just fine without her help at the moment if the man-child's pitiful wails of agony were any indication.

A sudden feral and booming roar erupted in the soft green and brown wooded mountainside, ejecting the lithe blonde from her thoughts. She peered back around her cover again to where B'Elanna had been. She had gone back to her spot behind a fallen log and was exchanging arrow shots with three more centaurs that had come down the mountain. She had taken one out and wounded the other two when they all heard the unusual bellow.

The two wounded centaurs turned too late to discover the source of the noise when they were essentially stampeded by a hairy and very boar-ish blur. One of the bare-chested beasts let out a pained grunt as he was knocked roughly into a tree and rendered unconscious. The other was thrown back several feet colliding with a rock face and was left unmoving.

B'Elanna crouched back down behind the log and looked back briefly to check on her crewmates. Seven was watching her from behind a tree back and to her left with a look in her eye that B'Elanna couldn't quite put her finger on at the moment so she quickly shrugged it off and checked on the rest. Tuvok was moving stealthily towards one of the other downed centaur's bows- B'Elanna was once again struck at the oddity of the visual. Tuvok was always just so… stiff- like extreme Vulcan stiff- that his crawling around on hands and feet really seemed like at any moment she could expect to see the Captain and Chakotay break into show tunes and it wouldn't feel out of place.

Never mind the visual being accented by the same tunic getup she was in. She quickly shrugged figuring it was probably part of the reason why he was the head of Security after all, no sense playing one's hand if they didn't need to and Vulcans were nothing if not masters at *not* playing a hand. The Captain, Doc and Tom all seemed safely hidden behind a bush- no, wait- that was Chakotay... who was currently sticking more leafy branches and what appeared to be moss in the edges of his own tunic and in his hair.

'_For the love of Kahless's bride…'_

B'Elanna just rolled her eyes and hoped Harry had things on the bridge under control while they were stuck on the holodeck. Whatever happened to trigger this whole mess (likely yet another strange and unfriendly alien race Voyager just happened upon...) had happened and there was no point in wondering about what was going on outside the holodeck when they had their own problems to deal with inside. She turned back quickly to assess this new threat- only to see a very naked, very bloated-looking Talaxian on all fours, snorting and foaming at the mouth wildly and a mad look in his eyes. B'Elanna groaned. She knew when Seven found out about 'Project Dionysus' that she was going to end up with a headache, and not the good kind as a result of her secret stills...

_~The air was slightly drier than normal, and the ambient temperature was 21.1 degrees Celsius. The 'room' was in an area on Deck 15 just aft of Landing Strut Number Two that was designed as space to allow for maintenance or emergency storage. Not that very many people knew that, nor was it ever really needed or practical. There was a small portable light illuminating the dark area that was only half the size of standard single crew quarters. B'Elanna Torres sat on a makeshift seat, her feet up on a nearby crate as she read from a PADD in her hand._

_She had a goofy grin on her face as she read a tale of romance and adventure. Few knew that deep down B'Elanna Torres, tough Klingon and Chief Engineer indulged in the works of famed 20th sci-fi/romance writer L. Countryman. Taken on a rollercoaster ride of emotion and adventure, B'Elanna most often found herself just so drawn to the epic romances of the stories. They were beautifully written and often made her laugh as much as tear up- but they always had a happy ending that just made everything even better. Tragic endings could work in some circumstances, but B'Elanna was by far a happy ending kind of girl despite what others might think of her. Growing up as a half-Klingon in a human colony with her father leaving her at a young age and all the anger she had allowed into her heart through the years made B'Elanna have what some might call a volatile edge. Didn't mean that deep down she wasn't a hopeless romantic though. Most just didn't take the time to see it and made their own assumptions about her. She didn't feel it was her job to correct them. The Helmrat certainly didn't take the time and she certainly wasn't going to waste the energy correcting him. _

_Setting down her PADD a moment, B'Elanna looked at the two wine stills in the room with her. She smiled again. How could a starship go this long without a secret alcohol operation? Well, it had one now. How could she not do it? Those berries that they got on Dion Two were perfect for wine making. The name was perfect too; she considered herself quite clever when she dubbed her secret operation Project Dionysus. Getting her own supply of berries was a bit trickier, she had to trade her personal set of custom micro-spanners for them, but it was worth it. In a couple weeks, her wine would be ready. She'd bottle one still to age and the other, she'd take to her quarters._

_A familiar click-clacking of heels shook B'Elanna from her thoughts. 'No, no no no no no no no... way. Please let it not be her...' She closed her eyes like a child playing hide and seek, hoping that if you couldn't see them, they couldn't see you. Her eyes snapped open at the silly thought. Seven had been doing that to her in recent... well, since she arrived aboard Voyager if B'Elanna was perfectly honest with herself. Worst part was, B'Elanna knew Seven could see her flushes and hear her accelerated twin heartbeats each time. She could sometimes swear she caught the beginnings of a smug smirk on the drop-dead beauty's lips._

_The momentary panic and quick look around the room gave way to inevitability as the suddenly standing Chief Engineer frantically tried to find a way out of the coming awkward situation. Resigned, she heard the foot falls come steadily closer. There was no where to hide, no way to disguise what was going on. Sighing in frustration, B'Elanna just plunked back down on her pillow-covered crate and folded her arms across her chest. She'd be dammed if she let the Borg catch her flustered._

_B'Elanna Torres was... 'flustered'. Even in the low light emitted by the portable light source, Seven's optical implant gave her near perfect low-light vision. Her posture suggested irritation- the typical initial response to Seven's presence. Seven knew now that the outward indicators were contradicted by the physiological responses of the half-Klingon. The Captain might comment on the appropriateness of Seven's favourite pastime but she would never share the truth of it to her or the Doctor. It was a personal indulgence that would be unseemly for the ever-composed ex-Borg._

_The momentary standoff between B'Elanna's attempted glare and Seven's own attempted composed look of indifference gave Seven the time to figure out just what she was going to say. She didn't quite understand her own behaviour recently and for some reason felt that B'Elanna was somehow the key to understanding it all. It was why she had gone to the Mess Hall dressed in the ancient Greek formal wear under the pretense of asking Mr. Paris to verify its authenticity. Thinking any harder on that might make Seven outwardly scoff. As if she would require the 'expertise' of Voyager's self-styled 'helmsman' to confirm what her very thorough research had already done. _

_No, she had gone there knowing B'Elanna would be there. She knew of the Chief Engineer's vociferous objections to the holodeck festivities and knew that since she, Seven, could not get out of them, well it would be... better if B'Elanna were to go as well. Her experiment seemed to have had the appropriate effect at the time but Seven was not completely convinced B'Elanna was going to go. She had to make sure. Seven did not do 'unsure'. _

_That brought her back to the moment she seemed stuck in. How do you tell someone you've been looking for them without telling them you've been looking for them? How do you ask them a question without asking? Social interactions outside the Borg Collective were both monumentally troubling and incredibly stimulating at the same time._

"_Lieutenant Torres." She finally found her voice._

"_Seven." B'Elanna was determined to be mono-syllabic. If Seven could be frustratingly obtuse, she could be stubborn._

_Seven had to fight the light about to spark in her eyes. This was the moment she had practiced for hours in the mirror for. Preparing her muscles and mentally going over her checklist outlining the proper sequence of actions and sounds, she was about to do it- to sigh dramatically- when her brain seemed to finally register the olfactory and visual evidence of alcohol production in the room._

"_Starfleet Regulation Zero Zero Zero One-A Dash One states that no unauthorized alcohol production shall be engaged in without the expressed permission of the commanding officer." Inwardly, Seven cringed. Now was not the time to be encouraging the rise of B'Elanna's 'hackles'. She'd been discovering that sometimes in the presence of Lieutenant Torres she was afflicted by that common condition known as 'nerves' which often upset her normally very planned course of action or conversation._

_Staying the course, B'Elanna raised a single brow, her stare unwavering. "And?" She finally saw a crack in Seven's armour as the statuesque blonde shifted slightly in her usual stiff 'at ease' stance and knew it shouldn't have given her the satisfaction it did but B'Elanna had been on the losing end of these little 'discussions' with Seven often enough that she wanted to just allow a small part of herself to enjoy it. Seven had caused her jaw to drop in the Mess Hall and she had a lot of ground to make up for things between them to be... even._

"_I... apologize Lieutenant. I was not-"Seven was unsure of what to say. This was all very confusing and she questioned why she had sought out B'Elanna in the first place. If B'Elanna knew she had used Borg sensors in her alcove to find her in the first place..._

_How Seven could so easily get to the soft part of her, B'Elanna didn't want to think about at the moment; she could see Seven's sudden struggles and could no longer hold the facade. "Seven... we're in the bowels of the ship, call me B'Elanna, yeah?"_

_The shock of B'Elanna's words had prevented Seven's suddenly open mouth from immediately commenting on the relative nature of space and how it might relate to the confusing purpose of attributing biological attributes to a starship. Her mouth snapped shut before opening again to finally allow the words to flow out with a softness she usually only reserved for Naomi Wildman._

"_Thank you, B'Elanna. May I- may I inquire as to the type of alcohol you are 'brewing'?"_

_B'Elanna's posture relaxed and before she knew it, she'd offered her pillow to Seven to sit on (to which Seven first declined before being... urged to 'comply' by the stubborn brunette) and the two women were having a conversation at the bottom of Voyager with only a single light source and two wine stills as company. B'Elanna explained the time-honoured tradition of alcohol production on a navy vessel and her own personal interest in a good wine that she rarely got to indulge in. Seven had considered her secret name for the project to be fitting with reference to ancient Earth culture and even suggested she donate one of the stills to the upcoming holodeck events. B'Elanna had begrudgingly agreed so long as it was saved for whichever event they would be at and that they kept the second one secret so she could bottle it and have it for special occasions- she did trade away her favourite micro-spanner set after all. Seven was finally satisfied that B'Elanna would be going to the holodeck as well and was able to 'relax' somewhat._

_When B'Elanna had asked why Seven was even in the bowels of the ship, Seven had stuttered a moment before mentioning that because she only needed to regenerate for eight hours once every three days, she often walked the entirety of Voyager during the 'off hours'. It wasn't an untruth, Seven did do it, it just wasn't her purpose that particular evening._

_By the time both women left Deck 15, they had found a comfortable ease with each other even if it was fragile..._

B'Elanna knew she couldn't really blame Seven. She wasn't even quite sure what happened, but that wasn't important at the moment. At the moment, she had a rampaging bunch of holographic centaurs and a very concerning and naked Neelix to worry about. That and people might get hurt- well, people _other_ than Tom. That was just funny and a bit of cosmic justice as far as she was concerned. Why the holodeck controls and safeties were unresponsive was a secondary concern at the moment.

Just as she was about to go to Neelix to see what she could do for him, he let out another bellow and bounded off through the woods towards the northern side of the mountain.

Cursing under her breath, B'Elanna made her way over to where Seven was, the unspoken question of how the blonde was doing in her brown eyes responded to with a brief nod before the two of them made their way to where Tom was whimpering and the Captain, Chakotay and the Doc were waiting. Tuvok was making his way back and arrived at the same time as Seven and B'Elanna.

"Tuvok, B'Elanna, report." Janeway was finally in full 'Captain Mode', ready to kick ass and chew coffee beans- and she was all out of coffee beans. She'd already begun to tear strips of fabric off her outfit for more mobility. If she was lucky, she'd get to do a commando roll by the end of this fiasco.

"Lieutenant Torres and I have acquired weapons. I have determined that the attack by the creatures is not a coordinated attack but rather seems to be quite random. The condition of Mr. Neelix however is unknown." Tuvok started while scanning the area.

"Four centaurs down in this area Captain, Neelix ran off to the north. He doesn't look good and I'd be hesitant to get in his way at the moment. I don't understand what happened. Everything was going fine; the centaurs seemed to be friendly... until they drank the wine. It wasn't the wine I brought though that was for us. I don't get it?" B'Elanna was still trying to work out where everything went wrong. Tom had designed the location and the event based on Greek mythology he said, as he thought it would be cool to interact with centaurs and just enjoy a day of wine, fruit and togas.

The Doctor turned from his attention to Tom when B'Elanna spoke; something was piquing his problem solving algorithms. "Lieutenant, where did you get the wine?"

B'Elanna found her previous courage begin to falter under the gaze of the Doctor, Captain and Tuvok. Chakotay... was a few feet away from the group lying in the moss between two trees mumbling something, "...for I will be as a fly on the wall - a grain of salt in the ocean. I will move amongst them like a transparent... *thing*..."

It was Seven who came to her rescue almost so casually that B'Elanna would have believed it herself had she not known the truth. "Lieutenant Torres and I procured an adequate amount of the Brosia berries from Dion Two for wine production. I had been curious about the practice and convinced the Lieutenant to indulge me."

The Doctor was about to speak when Tuvok, itching to quote regulations, beat him to it. "You are aware of Starfleet Regulation Zero Zero Zero One-A Dash-" Tuvok was silenced by a raised hand from Janeway. She'd talk to B'Elanna and Seven later about Starfleet regulations... and get a bottle or two of that wine for herself. It was damn good wine. "We've got other things to worry about Tuvok, Doctor you can stop huffing like a child now and say your piece."

"Thank you Captain, it seems regulations can never be quoted enough around here despite the fact that we have at least two current medical emergencies," the prideful sentient hologram began, but at the Force Eight glare from the auburn-haired Captain of Voyager, he decided to swallow his pride lest she feel like his program should need some extensive maintenance, "yes, well, *ahem* the berries we acquired from Dion Two had Mr. Neelix in Sickbay for an afternoon shortly after he tried to cross-breed them with a Leola root plant. It seems he has a rather unique allergic reaction to them. I suspect that even in their fermented state, they may be responsible for his current condition."

"Well, that explains Neelix, but doesn't explain the centaurs. They were drinking holographic wine, never mind whatever has happened with the ship keeping us stuck here with no way of communicating with the bridge." Janeway began as she scanned their immediate surroundings once more. The white marble and red-cloth setting of the party was not far off in the distance. The tables, benches and pillars would provide cover while they waited- along with plenty of food and drink.

"I believe I can answer one of those musings and may have a solution to another Captain, if I may." Seven knew the Captain respected action and solutions, and it was a good time to distract her from any disciplinary thoughts. B'Elanna took a moment to look at Seven, secretly always impressed with her extensive knowledge and how she could work through a problem.

Janeway gave a nod and her usual _You-Know-__**I'm**__-The Captain-Right?-_ smirk, "I'm all ears." Seven turned to Tom. "Mr. Paris, you programmed this event using the "Story Mode" pre-defined settings regarding the mythical elements, did you not?" She raised her metallic brow. She would suffer no deflection or stalling tactic.

Tom Paris, with tears and mucus flowing freely and despite being in incredible pain, tried his best not to whither under the ice-blue gaze of the former Borg drone. "Uh… y-yeah…" he struggled to get out between sharp gasps. "M-made programming any extra elements easier, including the unique architecture and special effects in the party area." He managed to get out in one breath. He had no idea where the blonde was going with this. **None of this **was his fault, he was sure. Besides, the puffs of miniature cloud hovering just inches off the floor allowed those in the temple to feel like the Olympian gods themselves- the Delaney sisters had marvelled at it just the previous day.

"Indeed. Did you not know from your research that in Greek mythology, centaurs that drank wine not tempered with water became easily inebriated and extremely violent? In using the "Story Mode" settings for many of the assets required for this program, the computer created the responses of the centaurs based on fantastical parameters." **Some of it** was clearly his fault, Seven was sure.

"Uh… so it's authentic?" Tom attempted weakly before finally passing out because of the pain. The Doctor just shook his head and did his program-forsaken duty and attempted make the unconscious sandy-haired fool comfortable.

B'Elanna just groaned and rolled her eyes; Janeway pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration at Tom once again cutting corners to impress people; Tuvok fought the smug arching of his 'asshole' brow briefly before giving up and letting his distain known through the minimal forehead muscle movement and Seven took 0.79 seconds to enjoy the Helmrat's predicament with a small smirk.

Chakotay, who was now attempting to look like a chameleon finally letting others become aware of its presence, moved back to the group in an exaggeratedly cautious manner; his body continually jerking from side to side in a fully defensive posture (complete with fists at-the-ready) at movement only he seemed to notice. Leaves and various other bits of foliage fell from his attire as he did so- B'Elanna really wanted to just burst into laughter, danger be dammed. "I think we're safe for the moment Captain, we can probably move to the protection of the temple area," he finally said, satisfied that his important role in Voyager's hierarchy was being put to good use.

Janeway was already pinching the bridge of her nose and didn't think there was anything else she could pinch to indicate her further frustration at "Captain Obvious" and his suggested course of action that was already over a minute old in every one else's mind.

"Good idea, Chakotay. You carry Tom at the Doctor's instruction. Seven, you had some other solution for us?" Her pale eyes pleaded for Seven to assimilate Chakotay, but the deep blues of Seven just conveyed a negative in sad sympathy.

"It may provide us with the ability to communicate with the Bridge. With the Doctor's ability to access his own programming, he should be able to…" The others leaned in as Seven described her plan…

Within moments, and no small amount of complicated technical discussion, they had brief communication with the bridge (if only through the Doctor) and after several minutes, they finally had an idea of what exactly happened to Voyager and how long they could expect things to remain as they were.

"…wow." Was all B'Elanna could say; Janeway just nodded thoughtfully and Tuvok calculated silently what Seven would undoubtedly speak aloud.

"'Wow' indeed. The probability of such a string of coincidental events occurring to create the scenario we now find ourselves in is approximately seven billion, nine hundr- *ahem*- to one." Even a former Borg, with the extensive knowledge of over ten thousand species could find herself impressed with the constant string of horrible luck that seemed to follow the USS Voyager and her crew. Few knew that she often showed her surprise or excitement through excessive verbosity she was not usually known for. She cut herself off at the amused look in B'Elanna's eyes and held back a small smile.

"Thank you Seven, now-" Janeway began before being interrupted by the omnipresent Commander Chakotay. "Captain, if I may- I think we need to talk this through once again so there is no confusion as to what happened-"

"No!" was the resounding consensus from the gathered officers of Voyager.

Thinking about the incredibly improbable circumstances upon which resulted in their current situation would hurt B'Elanna's head and she was glad that Seven, Doc, the Captain and Tuvok were all of the same mind. No sense dwelling on the wild, unforeseen and unbelievable string of events that lead them to this point in time when they could be doing something about it… no, it would not be spoken about again… ever.

After finally muzzling Chakotay, and slightly upset she didn't bring his usual 'pacifier' (that stone with the googly eyes he seemed so fascinated with), Janeway put on her Captain Daddy pants and got to work because she needed to get her troops organized. She'd managed to rip and tie most of her outfit into something more fitting of the ass-kicking starship Captain she was- though it had nothing on the job Seven had just completed on her own outfit with her usual precision and efficiency.

Janeway looked at B'Elanna. "Lieutenant, you and Seven," she narrowed her eyes at the blonde slightly for dramatic effect, "will go and reacquire Mr. Neelix- unharmed. Chakotay, the Doctor, Tuvok and I will bring Tom to the Temple area where we can set up a defensive position. I will then go find our other wayward crewmen and bring them back. Lieutenant Ralst, Ensigns Ollie and Ryuchan along with Janitor Lysle- whom I need not remind you all is *indispensable*- will hopefully be with us when you get back and we can all wait this thing out and laugh at the drunk centaurs while finishing off that great bit of wine B'Elanna and Seven had so generously donated to this event. Am I clear?"

Seven and B'Elanna glanced at each other briefly before nodding at the Captain. Before the Doctor could protest about being left with the conversationally mundane Commander Chakotay and an unconscious Tom Paris, Tuvok began his patented and now quite routine argument for the Captain not to put herself in danger.

"Captain, may I remind you-"

Before he got six words out, Janeway finished things off. "Tuvok, let's just skip to the end of this argument where I go anyway and you come with me under protest, hmm?" The glint in her eye told him she was up for adventure and no amount of reason or logic would dissuade her from it. The dark-skinned Vulcan just nodded in defeat, making a mental note to add yet another notation in the Captain's rather large 'Breaches of Protocol' file he had established for her years prior.

_Sometime Later…_

"…thank you."

It was getting cold and B'Elanna was getting cold. After a confrontation with two more wild centaurs, to which B'Elanna had taken one down with her bow and was nearly stunned into a blithering fan girl at the sheer awesomeness that was Seven catching an arrow with her enhanced hand only to spin around and throw it back with lethal precision and kill the other centaur, the two women had happened upon a cave they decided to search for Neelix.

Inside they found the largest centaur they'd seen yet, whose name turned out to be Chiron. He hadn't drunk any of the wine and was quite pleasant. When they told him of their current quest, he suggested they drive Neelix into the deep snow on the north side of the mountain in order to catch him. Not wasting any more time the two adventurers left and tried to make good time to the north side of the mountain to see where Neelix had gone.

Now, as they made their way towards where Neelix's tracks seemed to be leading them, B'Elanna thought it would be a good time to thank Seven for coming to her aid with the Captain.

"You are welcome. Naomi Wildman has told me that friends share their burdens and I… consider you a friend." Seven looked sidelong at B'Elanna with a slight hesitation. She had taken a gamble which was unheard of for her.

B'Elanna didn't even try and fight the blush or resulting smile from Seven's words. Despite all that had transpired between them, they really were friends in the end. That Seven would admit it made her feel… really good.

"Friends also share their wine… and possibly ice cream. When our lives get back to normal," Seven had to quirk a brow in question at that and B'Elanna chuckled briefly, "_our_ normal, I mean- let's have dinner, just the two of us. I'll even cook. We can gossip about Tom, the Captain and everything in between- or run a Klingon battle simulation, your choice." B'Elanna began to crouch as she spotted Neelix in the distance, his face digging around in the moss, undoubtedly searching for something to eat.

Seven, following B'Elanna's eye line, also spotted Neelix and mimicked the brunette's actions, readying her own bow acquired from another fallen centaur.

She kept her eyes on Neelix, but whispered practically into B'Elanna's ear. "I believe I would prefer the battle simulation, if the 'gossip' is anything similar to Ensign Tal's energetic discussions with Jenifer and Meagan Delaney about Ensign Kim's sexual prowess in the bedroom, I shall pass."

B'Elanna turned a rather deep shade of red and her brown eyes went wide and she was sure she would have spit anything out of her mouth if she'd been eating or drinking at the time. Her features quickly settled into a toothy grin. "Ensign Tal? Wow… it's always the quiet ones. Go Starfleet." She shook her head, and Seven was impressed with the rapid change in her features to tough determination, "anyway, we've got one Talaxian Boar to round up, and I'm hungry."

Nodding in agreement, although Seven was hoping B'Elanna was not intending to eat Mr. Neelix as she quite liked the portly Talaxian, the two warrior women began firing arrows near Neelix, causing him to snort and begin to move away. They continued herding him in that manner until he got himself stuck in some thick snow. It was then only a matter of time until they had him wrapped in some rope and were able to lead him back to the others, safe and sound.

Two days later, Neelix was back to work in the Mess Hall, cheery and eagerly serving his best dishes, loaded with extra spice, just the way he likes them… to the misfortune of those with even the most meagre olfactory senses.

The long table Neelix was moving to had on one side Tom propped up gingerly on his wrapped and cushioned behind- the golden coloured wrapping something he'd wished the Doctor had not chosen, making the fact that he was unable to wear pants even worse. Harry was sitting beside him with a somewhat glazed look in his eyes as if he was focused on something far, far away; Ensign Tal Celes was beside Harry, her left hand holding her fork and her right hand conspicuously beneath the table and a minute smirk playing about her face. Opposite them were the Captain, B'Elanna and Seven, with the latter two sitting very close together, Neelix noticed and he even thought he saw their thighs touching but averted his eyes lest his behaviour appear inappropriate. He, of course, was wearing his usual friendly smile.

"Good afternoon Captain; everyone. I hope you are finding the steamed Pholus rodent and leola root special to your liking?" He asked, an expectant look in his eye.

B'Elanna suddenly felt as if actually knowing the name of the food made it somehow worse, but she didn't have to cook and had a nice redundant stomach so she turned and smiled politely at Neelix and spoke for the rest of the people at table that were trying very hard to choke down whatever portion of their meal they had been currently working on. Except for Harry, he just looked out of it with his dilated pupils and silly smile…

"Everything is… edible, thank you Neelix, how are you feeling? You're certainly looking and sound better than you were a few days ago." Anything to distract the eager man from further inquiry regarding the food.

"Oh yes! Thank you, I am feeling much better. To be honest, I don't remember much past being given a goblet of that delicious smelling wine from Mr. Paris and then… nothing. I understand I have you and Seven to thank for… my rescue?" He still couldn't remember much of anything but was told by the Doctor that it was Seven and B'Elanna that had gotten him to treatment.

Tom might have said something in his defence but was silenced quickly when Seven shot him an 'evil eye' and cold look that sent shivers to his core. He would not be having pleasant dreams again for a long time.

"No thanks necessary Neelix, it was kind of my- _ooff_," B'Elanna received a slight jab in her side and shot her eyes playfully to the blonde beside her, "_our_ fault anyway. I should have had the Doc test the wine first, and then well, the whole… fiasco. So no, don't worry about it."

"Well, thank you anyway. Oh, and I was never really told just what happened with the ship…"

~FIN~

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><p><strong>AN: So a couple things: there is a line directly taken from a movie in there. A Jim Carey movie. Also, there is a line in there directly from Jeri Ryan herself in an interview when asked about the big 3 ladies of Voyager. I thought it would be fun to try and work it in there.**

**Finally, I wanted to have this really funny "we can't ever talk about that again" moment where we never get the explanation of what exactly happened to Voyager- mostly because I didn't want to think of a reason for it- and I'm not sure how well I did. I was thinking of the Simpsons episode where Bart and Lisa miss the best Itchy & Scratchy episode ever and Krusty says "They'll never let us show that again!".  
><strong>

**Thoughts?  
><strong>


	5. Chapter 5 B'Elanna & Seven Vs the Brig

**A/N: Ha! On time... barely, I know. This is a short one. Don't think I really had a great idea for this one to latch on to so it probably even feels a little abbreviated. Hope you like it none the less. In these, yes, Tom seems to take on the role of whatever male antagonist existed in the myth... sorry, can't help it.  
><strong>

**The Rules:  
><strong>

**1) Write a one-part fic each month, on any theme.**

**2) Each fic must be linked to the preceding one although it cannot be a continuation of the previous month's story.**

**3) At the end of the year, the work should be twelve separate one-shots linked together by a narrative with a beginning, middle and end.**

* * *

><p>The Trials of Herculanna and Sevcules<p>

Part 5: B'Elanna and Seven Versus the Brig

"Really, what are we in, the Stone Ages?"

Seven of Nine did not look up from where she was working. Her mumbled response was only received thanks to the excellent hearing of a half-Klingon; the only other occupant in the area.

"…sometime further ahead then that, I believe…"

B'Elanna kept her stare on the former Borg woman who was on her hands and knees, her biosuit making the brunette very consciously aware of each and every curve the beautiful woman possessed.

"Whatever, anyway, seriously- cleaning the Brig with sonic toothbrushes? Does she really think that is an appropriate punishment in this day and age? This isn't boot for crying out loud. Besides, forgetting the fact that we are indispensable to this ship, I'm pretty sure that we were the life of that holodeck party." B'Elanna practically huffed as she examined her 'cleaning implement' the Captain had 'allowed' for the umpteenth time.

"I do not believe that you drunkenly riding an even drunker Mr. Neelix bareback was what the Captain had in mind for her and Chakotay's wedding reception."

B'Elanna scoffed, not really offended by Seven's words, a smile tickling the corners of her mouth. "Bah, the wedding of 'Stiff and Bland' needed a little livening up. Your drunken rendition of "Don't You Want Somebody To Love" was the highlight for me."

Seven paused in her labour for just long enough for B'Elanna to catch the blush that began to flush her pale cheeks before some fancy nano probe work negated all B'Elanna's hard work.

"Thank you for not punching Mr. Paris. Serving time in the Brig may be worse than cleaning it. I should have known better than to trust Mr. Paris to bring me a proper Shirley Temple."

B'Elanna sat back against a wall near Seven, resting her forearm on a bent knee. "Yeah well… it would have been nice, and you're right- you can't trust Tom as far as you can throw him- wait, you can probably throw him pretty far with that enhanced Borg strength of yours can't you? I'm so jealous, I can only throw him about 3 metres- and yes, I did once."

Cataloguing quickly all the questions she had wanted to ask and answers she had to give- although she suspected some of B'Elanna's speech was rhetorical- Seven began simply, "May I ask why you threw Mr. Paris?"

B'Elanna just turned to look at the beautiful blonde who had once again paused her work and gazed at her with those deep blue eyes that spoke to her innocence and innocence lost; her wisdom and ignorance and her curiosity and intuition. B'Elanna smirked. "You may ask."

Seven merely raised her chin ever so slightly and arched her metallic eye implant, doing that 'Borg superiority thing'- that B'Elanna both loved and hated- again.

The friendly staring match was over before it began. B'Elanna would never be able to compete with the former Borg beauty and she wasn't really sure why she tried although she did enjoy the moment of laughter after she caved and the accompanying small smirk she could now associate with Seven's evident satisfaction.

"Okay, fine, fine. Hmm… why I threw the Helmrat… well, during the first few years here on Voyager, I just kept thinking that we'd be home soon and never really considered romance an option, so I threw myself into work and ignored the attention. However, after years of putting off his advances, I caved and went on a few dates with Paris just to see how things might go; to test the waters, so to speak."

B'Elanna paused for a breath and Seven looked thoughtful but also attentive- like she was processing and focused. It was the kind of gaze that caused an instinctual physical reaction in B'Elanna the likes she had never received from another. Seven was always able to do this to her without even trying. It was so nice to have someone, even if you _occasionally_ argued with them, give you their complete and undivided attention. B'Elanna couldn't name five people in her own history that ever did it, never mind someone who _constantly_ did it.

"So anyway, after a shift where I had to work overtime- as per usual- I thought I'd stop by and see if Paris wanted to get a drink or something-"

"-and you caught Mr. Paris with another woman?" Seven was confused at her own need to interject but her concern over being perceived as rude was calmed by B'Elanna's slight smile and shake of her head.

"No, as I got to the door, I overheard him talking to Harry about 'working his way' through the eligible women on Voyager with me being the 'Prize Pig'- which I had to later look up to fully understand, although it seemed academic enough at the time- and when I heard that, I stormed in and threw him out the door into the hall and yelled at him for a bit. Good old Harry finally got brave and stood between me and Tom till I left."

"…that would explain why Mr. Paris shows physiological signs of fear whenever you give him, I believe it is called, the 'Evil Eye'." At this, Seven attempted to give B'Elanna her own 'evil eye' in an attempt to once again make B'Elanna laugh. It was a revelation to be around someone like B'Elanna Torres who was laughing with you or because of you but not at you. Seven found she enjoyed the feelings produced from the interaction and wished to replicate the results as many times as she was able. She was finally feeling like she was truly beginning to understand the half-Klingon's sense of humour.

It worked and B'Elanna fell over laughing and rolled on to her side until she bumped into Seven's crouched form. Catching her breath she looked up at Seven and almost forgot to breathe.

"Heh… well, I'm not going to lie and say it's not a favourite hobby of mine. You, however, should stick with your 'Borg stare'- much more intimidating." She poked Seven in the arm and smiled as she looked up at the ceiling as if gazing at clouds like a carefree child on a beautiful summer day.

Seven immediately fixed her best Borg stare and glared at the woman lying on her back beside her. "Lieutenant Torres, we have a task to complete and I appear to be the only one currently or at least recently working."

B'Elanna held her stare a moment before she began a slow, sly, knowing smile. "Babe, you know that hasn't worked on me since that night in Jefferies tube five…" Then she reached up and pulled her girlfriend of two months down into a long, passionate kiss.

It was one of those kisses that Seven had been living for since she and B'Elanna had finally, and thankfully, stopped running from their attraction during a late night bio-neural gel-pack replacement session in Jefferies Tube Five.

Since then, they had been dating in secret- sort of. They were not ashamed to be in a relationship, but they preferred to have each other all to themselves for a while and figured they would 'out' themselves if the situation ever required it. It was a wonder no one had figured it out already anyway. B'Elanna and Seven took all their meals together and spent most, if not all, of their free time together. Granted, the bulk of their more public conversations were of the technical sort- which most of Voyager's crew seemed to tune out, or outright get away from when voices raised.

Seven was the first to break the kiss for air. "B'Elanna," she breathed out, her pupils still very dilated, "we need to complete this task…" she had wanted it to be a surprise, but things had gone enough in a certain direction that the probability of success had dropped to unacceptable levels.

B'Elanna had groaned when Seven broke the kiss and thought about groaning again at the prospect of continuing to clean the Brig with sonic toothbrushes.

"Sev… Janeway just wants to humiliate us a bit, she's not going to hold us to cleaning the whole thing- besides that would take days!"

Seven finally caught her breath while gently, and lovingly, tracing the four forehead ridges of her Klingon. "Very likely- however, were we to complete the task today, I would win a bet- a bet that I'm sure you would enjoy."

That- and the adjoining Borg smirk- got B'Elanna's attention and her competitive nature took over. "Oh? What bet? With who? For what? Let's get to it!"

Seven backed up a bit at B'Elanna's enthusiasm as the fired up half-Klingon got up and searched around for her sonic toothbrush. It made Seven smile despite losing the physical contact of her girlfriend she enjoyed very much.

"Indeed. A bet that was proposed this morning after we were handed our 'punishment' at the morning staff meeting- you had gone for a raktajino. Mr. Paris. For ten percent of his year's worth of replicator rations." Seven's personality was- by development- quite literal, so often when she was asked a string of questions, mostly by Naomi Wildman, she would answer them all just as succinctly.

B'Elanna stopped moving after she found her sonic toothbrush and Seven's words had registered. Her eyes lit up. "Really? Nice work… wait, what did you bet?" So help the Helmrat if he asked her girlfriend out to dinner as payment…

"Five percent of my years worth of rations." Seven grinned her triumphant grin, such as it was. It was always her eyes that would show just how much was going on below the surface- and they were burning bright. B'Elanna's breath hitched a moment before she could only shake her head and smile.

"You're amazing, we'll have to get you to negotiate next time Janeway finds one of these races with a coffee bean she likes." B'Elanna was impressed. It wasn't even like Seven was worried about losing the rations, she had tons. It was more for sending a message to Tom: you don't bet against a Borg. And B'Elanna was well on board for that.

"It would be easier to find a race that the Captain has *not* found a suitable coffee substitute to trade for…" Seven frowned slightly at both the thought of the Captain's clear addiction and her own having to actually negotiate for it in lieu of something Voyager may have a greater need for.

"Heh, true… but that doesn't really help us now. How are we going to finish this today?" Despite *really* wanting to win this bet and be there with her most smug grin plastered on her face when Seven collected her winnings, B'Elanna wasn't sure how they were going to do it. She almost wished Seven had mentioned it from the start but was starting to think her beauty had been trying to surprise her. It was another of Seven's habits that B'Elanna had grown to love.

In response, Seven got up and walked over to a maintenance panel by the main control station and opened it. Beckoning her girlfriend to her, she removed the cover from one of the power relays, exposing the internal wiring. "What do you see here?" she said, pointing to two separate energy cables.

"That's the Alpheus energy line and that one," B'Elanna pointed to a second cable, "is the Peneus transmitter line…" When Seven held up her sonic toothbrush with the end cap removed, B'Elanna had a moment of realization and then her grin was back with a vengeance. She pulled Seven into another searing kiss.

"You're brilliant Love, using the sonic toothbrush's emitter, we can combine the Alpheus and Peneus energy flows to create a wide-beam sonic wave that will clean this whole area in minutes."

Seven just quirked her brow and cocked her head slightly to the side. "Indeed."

_~Two Hours Later…~_

Janeway groaned. "I should have known better than to give an ex-Borg and my Chief Engineer what I thought was an impossible task. You know this was supposed to be a punishment? B'Elanna, I can't imagine why you have such a wolfish smile that you seem unable to get rid of."

"What can I say Captain? We love a challenge." B'Elanna looked briefly to Seven who was standing beside her looking as stoic and relaxed as she'd ever seen her. Seven did deliberately incline her head in her direction and wink ever so slightly for B'Elanna's eyes only after absorbing the feeling of B'Elanna's eyes upon her for a moment. Janeway, who had taken a brief respite from her glaring to take another long draught of her newest caffeinated acquisition, missed the exchange.

"Well ladies, it seems your punishment is over, however, in the future, I'd appreciate it if you both," at this she looked between the blonde and brunette, connecting her pale eyes with each of theirs in turn, "maybe saved the… shenanigans for someone else's wedding reception."

"Yes Captain" came the simultaneous reply.

"And do I even want to know why I have a constantly sobbing Tom Paris trying to shark everyone who goes to Sandrines in a game of pool?"

"No Captain." Both women replied, satisfied smiles on both their faces.

~FIN~

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><p><strong>AN: Ok? Sucked? I think there could have been some interesting and funny stuff done here but I think I just couldn't find the right inspiration.**


	6. Chapter 6 Mystery of the Stymphalian 7

**Disclaimer:** Characters and universe owned by Paramount. I neither make nor wish to make any money off my writing. Just make people smile, laugh, tear up a bit or in this case... blush.

**Pairing:** B/7 (F/F relationship, if that isn't your thing, you have the power to NOT read- don't let take that choice away from you.

**Rating:** M (Serious this time)

**Notes:** Part 6 of the Fanfic a Month challenge set forth earlier in the year on the VJB forum. This one has a pretty heavy tonal shift. At the start, I'm going for pure farce, parody and comedy, but I wanted to evolve the story into something quite a bit more serious and hope I pulled it off. Also, this marks the first time I've ever written something so... well, you'll see and I hope I did ok.

**The Rules:**

1) Write a one-part fic each month, on any theme.

2) Each fic must be linked to the preceding one although it cannot be a continuation of the previous month's story.

3) At the end of the year, the work should be twelve separate one-shots linked together by a narrative with a beginning, middle and end.

* * *

><p><strong>The Trials of Herculanna and Sevcules<strong>

_Part 6: The Mystery of the Stymphalian Seven_

"My God…" The weight of Captain Janeway's words hit everyone in the room. "We're talking about an extinction level event here…" the drama was palpable, "any one of us could be next…" the tension in the room had amped up to unimaginable proportions, "…we'll never make it home." Her last words were uttered with a touch of dread that the Senior Crew of the USS Voyager would have never thought possible coming from their Captain.

"Well Captain, I wouldn't quite put it so…" rolling his photonic eyes more for allowing the Captain that moment uninterrupted, the Doctor searched his database for an appropriate synonym for 'dramatic', but he was interrupted by said auburn-haired spitfire of a Captain who had been on too little sleep and far too much coffee of late- and secretly she'd been just plain bored for the last month of smooth sailing in the Delta Quadrant. They hadn't met an alien race that wanted to kill them for far too long in Janeway's books.

"Extinction. Level. Event." Her ice blue orbs glared daggers into the holographic Doctor's own eyes, daring him to contradict her.

"Captain, the definition of an extinction level event could not apply in this situation-" Tuvok, the ever-unwanted voice of rationality, attempted to calm his Captain somewhat to no avail.

Janeway slammed her palms down on the table. "Tuvok, my crewmembers are being systematically targeted and incapacitated. We are in full-blown crisis mode here and I don't want excuses, I want answers." She poured herself another cup of coffee so black B'Elanna Torres thought she could even taste its flavour of despair from her spot at the table across from Seven of Nine. B'Elanna Torres certainly did not need any more despair in her diet, thank you very much.

Harry and the Doc sat on one side of B'Elanna while Tuvok sat on the other, closest to the Captain. The other side had Chakotay, Seven, Neelix and Tom. B'Elanna let a careful and scrutinizing eye trace over each person on the other side of the table. Her side was clearly the 'trustworthy' side. Tom was day-dreaming of course- most likely trying to come up with a way of winning back his rations he lost to B'Elanna in pool last month; Neelix seemed like he wanted to suggest a holodeck party to brighten everyone's mood; Chakotay was trying his best 'sympathy for Captain Crazy' smile and kept looking between his left hand and the Captain's right hand as he slowly inched his towards hers. _'One day…'_ He sighed slightly.

B'Elanna finally turned her gaze towards Seven and once again felt that spark of… _lust?_ that she had been experiencing far too often over the past couple of months or so with regards to the ex-Borg woman. She was finding herself waking at night, the whisper of Seven's name on her lips, her sheets soaked with sweat and her hearts beating so rapidly she could hear them in her ears. It seemed to happen more and more as the recent months dragged on and coincided with days that they had to work closely together. Several cold aqua showers per day and Seven's seemingly impenetrable air of indifference towards Voyager's Chief Engineer were the only things that kept B'Elanna from hauling Seven into a Jefferies tube junction and having her way with her. That and her Klingon pride. It would seem too much like giving in if she showed her attraction so openly. Aggression was her thing and if Seven didn't get the hint, that was her problem. Klingons don't beg. Besides, Seven didn't really seem to be interested- or at least show any real interest- so if it was a competition to see who could gain the upper hand, well, Klingon pride versus Borg stubbornness was being put to the test- big time.

So it was with a certain degree of satisfaction and perhaps worry that B'Elanna noticed something off in Seven's countenance. She was… fidgeting. Oh, no one else in the room, save for Tuvok had he been looking, would really notice- but B'Elanna did. With all the time she'd been spending staring at Seven's… _everything_ for the past month whilst doing her damndest to look like she was NOT staring, B'Elanna had gotten quite good at reading the woman from her tiny visual cues. While doing her best to look like a bored Borg, Seven was leaking anxiety or nervousness or… something else B'Elanna couldn't quite put her finger on. Just as she thought she might be approaching an 'eureka' moment, and while the Captain was making exaggerated appreciative noises and looking pointedly at her coffee, Seven's deep blue eyes flickered to B'Elanna's own brown windows-to-the-soul and B'Elanna was suddenly paralyzed. The connection was only a fraction of a second before Seven's eyes left her again and the blonde seemed to regain her lost composure, but in that moment, B'Elanna felt… something. Something indescribable.

It was as if that one look said, "I want you and need you… desperately" and it set her body's nervous system afire. After the full body synaptic response, the half-Klingon was given the full once-over with goosebumps and had to fight to keep the evidence of her condition secret from everyone else at the table. Luckily, no one seemed to be paying attention to her at the moment.

Being so distracted, she didn't notice the tiniest of movements at the corner of Seven's mouth before it disappeared.

Sneaking a look at Harry, she noticed he was once again reading "A Captain's Good Graces, The Complete Guide On How To Get Into Them" and tentatively trying to raise his hand to make some kind of suggestion. The Doctor was unnecessarily rubbing the bridge of his nose while trying to mentally conceive of a caffeine patch to invent that wouldn't put his Captain in a coma but give her what she needed while keeping the rest of the Senior Staff safe from her occasional need to throw an empty coffee mug- or pot. Tuvok was counting between the numbers 709 and 7738 in his head to maintain his focus and clear his mind- he was getting too many primal emotional impressions from the woman on his left and being that Vulcans were primarily tactile telepaths, it was indicative of the strength of her emotions that he was feeling them at all- he made a mental note to monitor the Lieutenant's behaviour more closely in the coming days.

"Well, we need to do something." The Captain finally said, a sad look in her eye as she gazed at the now empty mug in her hand before perking up and noticing the still half-full pot in her other hand. Tuvok merely raised a brow and was quite pleased (in his own Vulcany way) that he did not bounce back and forth between such extremes of emotion- he believed he now understood the human habit of having a yapping, bouncing dog as a pet: they could evidently relate to their extreme emotional mood changes.

"Captain, if I may," the Doctor began, deciding it was time to inject some sanity into the proceedings and if no one else would, he was past the point of wanting to sedate the Captain- so he needed an outlet and praising his own accomplishments _always_ filled _that_ need. Of course he misinterpreted her nodding to herself in response to her internal question of _'is this cup going to be as amazing as the last?'_ as acquiescence to his request.

"I have been able to make a discovery, after this last 'incident', as you know, we now have four crewmembers in Sick Bay in a state of what I can only diagnose as 'perpetual bliss': Crewmen Tal Celes, Valerie Canamar and Mariah Henley, and the most recent addition, Ensign Harper. Now, Ensign Harper was found in the women's showers on Deck 7 with nine hickeys marking her shoulders, neck and face. While no other physical evidence could be gained from her or the marks, other than she was not unhappy, it was her sonic toothbrush found nearby that held the key- a micro sample of partially decomposed DNA has given me a clue- the 'attacker' if you will… is female." The last part, said after a pause for dramatic effect, seemed to garner the response the Doctor so craved.

A collective gasp was released by the bulk of those in attendance, much to the delight of Doctor, as indicated by the satisfied smirk on his face.

Tom immediately piped up, his attention finally piqued. "Captain, I volunteer to spend every waking moment presenting myself as bait to this attacker who seems intent on kissing members of this crew senseless. If I shall be swooped down upon, so be it. Voyager's safety comes first." B'Elanna did not fight the eye roll and accompanying snort. Neelix looked so proud of Tom for stepping up to such a dangerous task and wished he had the courage, but Ensign Wildman and Naomi were his unofficial charges now; Harry looked forlorn over the fact that he couldn't find the courage to make the offer himself- he quickly called up "Chapter 7- Taking Charge and Showing Initiative" on his PADD and began reading while shaking his head slightly and muttering "…stupid, stupid…"

Chakotay finally spoke, his previous silence unnoticed by anyone… ever. "Well thank you Tom. Captain, it seems like we have the beginnings of a plan of action here." Janeway held up her coffee mug-less hand to prevent further extrapolation. "Commander, you're forgetting something- I can't have one of my Senior Staff, and an-" she almost sputtered as she realized she was about to say 'indispensable member of this crew put themselves in danger'.

B'Elanna read the look on the Captain's face and couldn't agree more.

"An… upstand- no, an… undeterred member of this crew put themselves in jeopardy like that without more information to go on." Janeway was satisfied that she'd saved that but Tom's scowl said otherwise. She really couldn't bring herself to care. Neither could B'Elanna, Harry, the Doctor, Tuvok or Seven- who looked particularly unimpressed. A smiling Neelix, of course, was oblivious to the 'other' conversation going on. Sweet fellow, that Neelix.

"Regardless of Mr. Paris's willingness, I suspect his plan to be fundamentally flawed regardless." Tuvok decided it was now time to steer things in the correct, logical direction.

Janeway looked to her old friend to give him the floor. "Tuvok, you've got something on your mind?"

"Yes Captain. From what the Doctor has just revealed and my own investigation, I believe that the attacker is not only female, but only targeting female members of the crew as well. All of the 'attacks' occurred during an eight hour time span exactly six days apart during Gamma shift. Sensor logs appear to have several gaps in them regarding crew lifesigns making it difficult to determine who was where during those times. Other than the gaps, there appears to be no evidence of tampering with the logs. Each victim was taken unaware and each left with multiple bruises resulting from oral suction-" Tuvok narrowed his eyes at Tom's snicker and Tom sank back in his chair just a little more.

Janeway's jaw dropped. "I knew it! I said it was bad, didn't I? Great Gretchen's mashed potatoes, Tuvok! I'm a red blooded Hoosier and I prefer my men- thank you- both hairy **and** non-tatooed." Something small and fragile quietly shattered within Commander Chakotay as Janeway spoke: hope. "I can't be looking over my shoulder each time I get a late night craving for Neelix's Leola Root Coffee Cake. I'll have to amend my earlier dread- this is a female extinction level event!" The accompanying dramatic musical cue of 'bom bom BOM!' only happened in her head.

Okay, the Captain was wired past her usual crazy as far as B'Elanna could tell and she knew the woman would eventually come to her senses when she came down from her near perpetual caffeine high- or she'd crash and her head would once again thump against the table as she dropped unconscious- she really wished she had a holo of that last time...

Things weren't that bad recently that something as silly as a mystery Cassanova could be construed as being the biggest threat to Voyager since the Borg…

_Borg!_

_Seven? Could it be Seven?_ It hit her like a tonne of bricks. Seven had been exhibiting all the signs of some kind of strange sexual tension, like, like… almost as if… no, it couldn't be… similar to the beginning stages of pon farr? _Oh Kahless_, was she, B'Elanna not also exhibiting similar signs? Had Vorik's failed pon farr attempt all those years ago left something imprinted on her? Had she somehow passed it off to Seven? Had Vorik approached Seven? _So help that Vulcan peta'Q if he had…_

The questions and confusing emotions were swirling through B'Elanna's head at a dizzying rate. She kept trying not to look at Seven and found herself mostly unable to do so for the rest of the meeting. Tuvok finally calmed the Captain down and cautioned patience; reassuring her that she was most likely not a desirable victim for the 'Swooping Kisser' as Tom had now nicknamed the unknown assailant- had B'Elanna not been so affected, she might have commented on how stupid the name was. Despite her stated sexual preference, Janeway's pride couldn't help but make itself known when the low grow of the words "and why not?" escaped her lips. Tuvok then informed her that all the victims were in their mid 20's to early thirties, had brown hair and brown eyes…

The meeting ended without much fanfare, Chakotay took the bridge and the Doctor had convinced the Captain to get some rest, (with the help of a hypo and a double dose of sedative) which she fought against until Tuvok said he'd station himself outside of her quarters. Tom and Harry were giggling like schoolgirls trying to picture each woman and their assailant engaged in heavy enough kissing to leave the women virtually debilitated for the time being. Neelix had asked B'Elanna if she wanted anything special cooked today as he was taking a survey of his most popular dishes. B'Elanna really felt like his cooking had been improving since getting over his allergic reaction to some berries they picked up a while ago and mentioned that his vegetarian 'fireball' chilli was one of her favourites for sure. Seven had simply walked out without so much as a "by your leave" and headed to Astrometrics to finish off her shift.

B'Elanna had work to do. Not her usual work in Engineering, things were quiet so she was planning on putting Vorik in charge for the rest of the shift- he had this 'air' about him recently… like he was a winner, and it paid to be a winner in B'Elanna's books. _It'd be good for him_, she reasoned.

That issue dealt with, there were still a number of things for B'Elanna to do after she locked herself in her office for the day. Step one: determine if Seven really was the culprit. Step two: something exciting happens. Step three: profit. Okay, so it wasn't a great plan. But then again, it wasn't like she could just offer herself up as bait… _or could I?_

B'Elanna sat down at her desk and put her feet up, leaning back to think. The refreshing aroma of her cup of raktajino- a real warrior's coffee- on her desk soothed her hyperactive nerves.

Tuvok had mentioned that all the 'victims' were female- _check;_ between the ages of 25 and 33- _check;_ and had brown hair and brown eyes- _check, check;_ and that the incidents occurred during Gamma shift during an eight-hour timeframe six days apart. B'Elanna sat up, dropping her feet from their comfortable position on the corner of her desk and hit her communicator.

"Torres to the Doctor."

_~Yes Lieutenant? Something important? Obviously I don't have enough work around here with four seemingly comatose patients and my never-ending quest to wean the Captain off her coff-~_

"Doc, shut it a moment or so help me when we get back to the Alpha Quadrant I'll schedule Ferengi contractors to do the maintenance on your mobile emitter and we both know just how long that might take." B'Elanna was in no mood for the Doctor's 'poor me' bullshit. The *gulp* heard on the other end of the line told her she had the holographic man's attention.

"Now, I need you to confirm something for me- as far as I know, and according to maintenance records and power drain logs, Seven of Nine regenerates for eight hours, once every three days, correct?"

_~That's correct, her Borg systems can sustain her for up to six days if she is not exerting herself too much-~_

B'Elanna cut him off in her excitement. "Great Doc, thanks! Torres out."

Grumbling to himself back in Sick Bay, the Doctor turned to his comatose patients and tugged at his collar, "I don't get no respect, no respect at all!"- no one got the joke.

Now having a sort-of theory to go on, B'Elanna began an extensive search into the powerlogs of Cargo Bay 2 during the 'incidents'. Using her clearance and under the guise of 'maintenance' should Tuvok ask, she also brought up security footage of the times in question. An hour later, her suspicions were stronger than ever. Something odd was going on. By all accounts, Seven was in her alcove during the times of the… 'incidents'. But, B'Elanna had noticed an odd power fluctuation in her alcove on four separate occasions, all approximately ten to twenty minutes before each 'incident'. She dug deeper, checking the systems attached to the alcove. Something was definitely going on- certain systems seemed to flicker to life at certain times for no reason...

Then something caught her eye in the security footage from the four incident times where Seven was in her alcove. She had one monitor playing those timeframes split-screen over and over. Wiping her eyes to make sure she wasn't seeing things, B'Elanna replayed the footage and watched again. She stared at Seven and noticed nothing out of the ordinary. She was still as beautiful as ever in her comatose-like state of regeneration… but her alcove. The lights on her alcove caught her attention. She brought up one screen and reversed the footage and watched again. There. The light patterns abruptly changed ever so slightly. Quickly she checked the other three and found the same anomaly.

"Son of a bitch." The pieces fell together and now that she knew what to look for, it all came together quickly. Seven's alcove was striking out and taking over certain systems, internal sensors, data logging and security, cutting through the Federation firewalls like butter. On four separate occasions, feedback loops were created to present the false image of Seven regenerating with the accompanying sensor data to match. So that meant that on four separate occasions, Seven was NOT in her alcove.

B'Elanna smacked her forehead. Of course, after she had made the stink a while ago about Seven's need for privacy and how it was inappropriate for the Captain or anyone else to venture into Cargo Bay 2 while Seven was regenerating, there would be no physical witness to Seven being gone from her alcove.

But maybe that was a good thing. If no one else had caught on, maybe B'Elanna could confront Seven alone and find out what was going on. Clearly, kissing attacks were not the usual M.O. for the tall beauty and B'Elanna suspected that it would be a source of embarrassment for her to be found out and likely pestered, teased or punished for something she may not have control over didn't sit well with the half-Klingon. If it was something like B'Elanna was feeling… then maybe they could work it out together.

B'Elanna needed to get Seven alone, but where? Her quarters were a bad idea- and a mess. Too many nosey neighbours as well. Her eyes lit up. The Brig. It was on the same Deck as her quarters but a far enough section away and undergoing a retrofit and there was no need for it at the moment anyway. Any discipline that required the brig was converted to house-arrest. Again, there were no incidents aboard Voyager recently that even required that.

"Now how am I going to get you there?" B'Elanna thought aloud, tapping her chin. Sitting forward as an idea struck her, she cleared everything she'd already done and filed it in her secure files with her best Maquis encryption codes with an additional passive security program to monitor if anyone tried to break them.

Calling up data from the last bit of Borg salvage, B'Elanna looked for anything she could use. It was another hour before she struck gold. A race, known only as Species 116- which B'Elanna remembered encountering the last of; a man who tried to trick them all into a ship that would take them to the Borg to be assimilated- had devised, in their last days, a device loosely translated in English as a "Hephaestian Rattler"- something that was supposed to emit a localized subspace frequency that would naturally repel the Borg by essentially creating a sensory 'blind spot' for them. However, it seemed that while it should work in theory, in practice, it attracted the Borg like the smell of fresh coffee three decks away from one Kathryn Janeway.

'_Hmmm… this might just do perfectly…'_ a smile played on B'Elanna's lips as her plan took shape.

* * *

><p>It happened again. She was 'awoken' from her regeneration cycle prematurely with the… need. The Alpha Protocol was now in full effect and she could not delay it any longer. She should have told the Captain. She should have told the Doctor, but she felt neither comfortable nor willing enough to do either. It was her problem to deal with and she would. She was Borg. But the past incidents were more of a blur than she would like. She had little control and while she felt like she was gaining control over her actions, the need was becoming too great. She needed to find a mate, and it needed to be tonight.<p>

As she stepped out of her alcove, the proper systems having once again been hijacked by her alcove using the extra energy it had been storing, she considered her options. They did not look promising. Commander Chakotay, while the top ranking male aboard the ship, held little to no appeal to her. He gained the position by virtue of the alliance Captain Janeway made with his crew and did not really earn it in her eyes. The Captain herself had made it quite clear she would not welcome the advances of a woman. Mr. Neelix was tied emotionally to Ensign Wildman and NaomiWildman. Harry Kim was too fragile and would likely suffer an anxiety attack if Seven approached him this evening. Tom Paris wasn't even worth thinking about.

None of them were.

Except her.

It was only ever her. But, Seven would not allow her condition to dictate her actions when she wanted them to be freely given and freely returned. It was why she had gone after the others- it was almost instinct. Looking back on it, she'd started in Astrometrics and was working her way toward Engineering. It seemed even her Borg nature was drawn to a certain brown eyed half-Klingon.

Taking a moment to gather a breath and close her fist to prevent the shaking she felt beginning to tickle at her fingertips, Seven took a wary step out of Cargo Bay 2.

Then she heard it.

Like the sweetest song, calling her, whispering promises that would be forever kept; it called to her and she was suddenly powerless to resist. In a dream-like trance, Seven floated towards the source of the call, her legs moving of their own volition, heels clicking softly on the carpeted deck plating. It was a call for only her ears to hear- for the Borg. It was a wholly different experience than the almost predatory state she'd been in during the previous times and deep down Seven was a little scared, she would not be able to stop herself tonight.

After arriving on Deck Nine, she continued towards her destiny. Whatever it was, she was powerless to stop it, resist or wish for some reprieve. It was late in the evening and Gamma shift would be on. There would be no one awake or active on this Deck. The retrofit for the Brig was being done by Alpha shift workers so she was even more confused when she reached the entrance to the Brig and quietly let herself in, her actions produced in response to the unknown and unseen stimuli.

The room was dark, there were panels off the wall; idly she noticed equipment scattered about the room but it was the cleared portion in the middle of the room with the blankets and pillows that caught her attention.

Then the song stopped. Awareness smacked her hard and she experienced a full-body shiver unlike any other she'd had before as she began to regain some motor control once again.

"Seven"

The word washed over her person, the low timbre like a velvety covering, wrapping her in warmth and recognition. Her eyes shot open after briefly fluttering shut involuntarily.

"L-Lieutenant Torres…" it was almost a whisper half-groaned, half-spoken as the lithe blonde turned to see the beautiful brunette disconnecting a device from a couple of lines behind an exposed work panel. She was wearing only a blood red silk robe, tied loosely at the waste, the lapels of her robe open slightly over her chest exposing soft bronzed skin and not nearly enough cleavage- a magnet for blue eyes.

"Seven… I know what you've been doing. But I don't know why. I also know that I have been recently having a… reaction to your presence that I can no longer deny." B'Elanna took a few confident steps towards Seven as she spoke before stopping and dropping her eyes slightly. "But… I'm worried that I might be having a reaction due to a failed pon farr initiation by Vorik years ago and that it is affecting you. I- I know now that I *do* want to explore something with you Seven, my aggression should be enough evidence of that, but I don't want to do something that you don't want. However, it seems like you have a problem that needs help with, regardless, and I am willing to be that help."

The words were hard for B'Elanna but she wanted Seven to understand the truth- she had feelings for her, but even if Seven didn't return them, she was still willing to help her or help solve whatever problem Seven was having.

Seven, for her part, was stunned by the emotion welling within herself. She shook her head briefly to concentrate. Things were beginning to make sense. The Alpha Protocol initiated based on pheromone compatibility. Something shifted in the relationship between her and the Lieutenant and the Alpha Protocol was engaged. The only trigger Seven could think of… when she thought she was dying from her emotional inhibitor and had gone to hide in Engineering. They had shared a moment then and since then…

"I believe I am responsible for your… condition as well, Lieutenant." Seven scrunched her eyebrows together slightly, wanting to ask a question, but her inherent drive to conform to protocol made it difficult. Sensing her troubles, B'Elanna chuckled softly.

"Yes you can, and please, call me B'Elanna whenever you want. Now, what's this you're saying about being responsible for my condition?" Her words were soft and soothing, not accusatory which made Seven relax… a bit. She was still currently fighting the powerful impulse to grab the woman in front of her and… well, that's as far as she had thought ahead. Whatever came next, she just knew it was supposed to be… good.

"Thank you, B'Elanna. I believe- I believe that a pheromone connection between us has been instigated by something called the "Alpha Protocol". This protocol is something that Borg drones are unaware of and I too was unaware of it before several weeks ago. It is a propagation protocol for Borg drones separated from the Collective for long lengths of time. Several passive sensors evaluate physical parameters of those that the drone comes in contact with until an acceptable match is found. Then a pheromone trigger is released by certain implants, of which I still have two, and if a complimenting pheromone is received in return, the drive to mate is initiated. My alcove has been automatically responding to the protocol initiation in my cortical implant and attempting to facilitate this need."

B'Elanna thought over Seven's words. "So… why all the night-time stalking? Why the others?" Seven looked away briefly. "I was… embarrassed, and… not in complete control. I was able to stop those encounters before they got too far and I certainly did not want to approach you in that state. I was unsure of your response."

"Seven, look at me." B'Elanna's hand reached up as she stepped closer to Seven and softly guided her cheek, turning her back to look into brown eyes trying to convey nothing but acceptance and love.

"What do you need?" Really hoping she was correct, and it was what she herself needed, B'Elanna tried to be as open as possible.

"You. I need to mate. I need to mate with you. To- make a child with you. Male drones have their natural biological 'equipment' preserved for the protocol and female drones have… well, I have a third, smaller tubule in my enhanced hand…" She believed it would scare B'Elanna off, but was determined to be completely honest. She wanted B'Elanna going into anything with full knowledge.

B'Elanna's eyes widened slightly before closing for a moment. Seven waited as it seemed like there was an internal dialogue going on that she wasn't privy to. B'Elanna shook her head almost imperceptivity.

"Okay." Was all she said and opened her eyes, a smile forming on her lips.

"Are you- are you sure?" Seven was shocked, to say the least. Overjoyed, to say the most.

B'Elanna stepped into Seven, one hand wrapping around Seven's soft neck and the other around her waste, at the small of her back. "jIH dok" Was all she said as she turned her cheek to Seven, the invitation to so much more than a casual affair or physical release- it was a commitment.

Seven's blood sang. She leaned in, vaguely remembering a time she had done this before while not in control of her actions, and gently nipped the skin of B'Elanna's cheek, drawing the tiniest amount of blood before licking it softly, soothingly.

"Maj dok." She said, leaning back and exposing her own cheek. B'Elanna treated Seven to a soft bite with the same reverence she'd been treated with; her hearts were beating rapidly for a moment before settling into a rhythm… matching Seven's own strongly beating heart. "Tlinghan jIH." Seven announced, turning back to gaze into B'Elanna's eyes. "I am Borg." B'Elanna responded, a wry smirk forming on her lips. Seven appreciated the gesture more than words could express- so she expressed her appreciation physically, drawing B'Elanna into a bruising, needy kiss.

Eager hands found the clasp at the top of her biosuit and began to drawn the zipper down her back, attempting to peel her out of her minimal clothing as Seven backed the two of them towards the center of the room where the blankets and pillows were, the two women never breaking the heated meeting of their lips.

Somehow, between the two of them, they managed to get Seven out of her biosuit and B'Elanna divested of her robe without breaking the kiss. When B'Elanna finally had to break it to breathe, she took a moment to truly appreciate the beauty before her. Seven stood, still clutching B'Elanna close even as the brunette leaned back to look her over, her implants adorning her in a way that B'Elanna could only think of as something completing a work of art. Seven was beyond beautiful to B'Elanna- she had become her whole world. No more words were exchanged for none were needed.

Together, B'Elanna and Seven settled onto the blankets and pillows that B'Elanna had previously set up and B'Elanna began her journey of discovery, mapping Seven's entire body with soft kisses. She worked along Seven's jaw and down her neck, pausing to leave a mark just under where Seven's collar would cover for that was now for B'Elanna's eyes only. Thankfully, Seven was not only just as possessive, but also just as turned on by the thought of being so possessed by her lover.

When B'Elanna took one of Seven's nipples between her lips, Seven released a gasp and arched her back in such a way that B'Elanna almost had a small release of her own. Her left hand cupped and squeezed the other soft breast as she laved attention on her target with nips and licks. Seven was so raw in her expression; almost feral in her response to B'Elanna and it was driving her own blood fever to incredible heights. But she wanted Seven to know exactly how wanted she was, and how loved. So, she continued to lick and nip her way down Seven's pale torso, pausing to sometimes touch the exposed implants, running a fingertip gently over the exposed metal, following with her tongue each and every time.

She wanted Seven to know that no part of her was not accepted and Seven's understanding of the message being sent was expressed in her soft moans and the uncontrolled clutching, grabbing and rubbing of anywhere on B'Elanna she could reach with her hands, thighs and feet.

As B'Elanna finally got between Seven's legs, she gently applied pressure to her inner thighs in request and the response was once again breathlessly given as Seven opened herself to B'Elanna. Looking up one final time, B'Elanna's eyes caught Seven's and amidst the hitched breathing and almost feral want, she also saw blue- now almost black- eyes pleading with her to take her somewhere she's never been before.

The smell; the soft, hairless skin; it was all too much for B'Elanna and she began to use her tongue to make love to her wife. Long, hard strokes peppered with soft nips and licks in between had Seven writhing beneath her. Her taste was something B'Elanna had immediately decided was so uniquely Seven and like Seven, incredibly addictive. She could have gotten lost in time simply enjoying the sounds, feel, taste and sight of Seven beneath her.

B'Elanna added a finger to her ministrations; gently, slowly. Seven's eyes shot wide open at the penetration. Her head had been thrown back, eyes closed as she was previously lost in sensation. B'Elanna was also focusing her oral attentions on the most sensitive bundle of nerves she was attempting to coax out of hiding and didn't think she should have been as surprised as she was when she encountered a barrier. There was one piece of Seven that had been untouched by anyone- human or Borg. Looking up to Seven, she saw her looking back, and through the haze of lust and feeling, saw love and a small nod and smile. It was Seven's gift to her and it was an immeasurable honour in B'Elanna's eyes.

Slowly, without moving her hand, B'Elanna trailed kisses back up Seven's torso until she was hovering above her and she straddled Seven's right thigh. Their eyes were mere centimetres apart, their breath mixing, melding and blending on each exhale just as their connection was growing and becoming stronger. B'Elanna added a second finger, carefully working it into position as she stared into her favourite blue eyes that had gone black. Seeing what she needed, she kissed Seven hard and pushed, holding herself inside a moment to give Seven time to adjust and for the pain to ebb. Nano probes had to be good for something, B'Elanna figured as she felt Seven begin to kiss her back with passion, her thigh lifting to add pressure to B'Elanna's center as she began rolling her hips slightly.

They moved together as one, complimenting each thrust of the hips and arch of the back; each of them lost in the other- their moans; the wet kisses; the slick bodies moving against each other- and when B'Elanna felt herself reaching that blissful precipice, she used her thumb and palm to push Seven further as she rode a smooth, slick thigh till she lost her voice; yet she was still acutely aware of Seven's own unique and completely captivating moans beneath her reaching crescendo.

Stillness. The beating of hearts. Heavy breathing. Warmth. Simple things became B'Elanna's world as she lay boneless atop Seven with a silly grin plastered to her face beneath splayed hair that she didn't care to ever have leave her.

"Be'nal." Seven breathed out into B'Elanna's ear, the brown hair ticking Seven's face as it moved. B'Elanna searched for the strength to lift herself up to look at her wife. She wasn't sure how long it had lasted, only that it was the most gratifying physical experience of her life and she couldn't for the life of her stop smiling through the blissful haze she found herself in. Words seemed like such a difficult thing all of a sudden so she just let her instincts take over.

"Yes… Bang'wI?" When her eyes finally focused on the entrancing blues below her, B'Elanna knew she was in trouble. Seven was focused; like a predator.

"My turn…" was all she said before flipping them over, much to B'Elanna's delight…

* * *

><p>Their first child would be conceived that night and all of the ladies in Sick Bay would eventually make a full recovery, although all of them seemed unwilling to talk about their experiences- a rather dreamy look overtaking them whenever they were asked- mostly by Tom. Tuvok had a small talk with Seven and B'Elanna and the case was closed.<p>

The Captain still insisted on being escorted to the Mess Hall at night when she had a craving for Leola Root Coffee Cake. It was during one of these late night jaunts that she bumped into Janitor Lysle, a rather hairy and un-tatooed fellow with a wicked imagination… the rest, as they say, is history… or possibly mythology.

~FIN~

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** I hope it was ok. These are one-shots so I don't mind how fast things move and stuff. I can really only write these things from one perspective so I had to be a bit more about the emotion and experience- besides, I don't think I could actually even write anything more detailed than this without turning bright red.


	7. Chapter 7 That's No Bull!

A/N: ZOMG, I feel so bad for A)not getting this out in July and B)not getting much of anything out in a long while. I have been suffering the WORST bit of writers block ever. I think it is hard to be creative when one is stressed and I have so many big changes occurring in my life right now that it's all a bit overwhelming. ANYWAY, I've been working on this since July and have finally finished it. Don't assume that means it's epic or great, just that it finally got done! ;)

The Minoians in this are based on the Voss from Star Wars The Old Republic.

Rules in Chapter 1.

Klingon: SoS -mom; SoS'oy- mommy; Be'nal- wife; Duy mach- little angel;

* * *

><p>The Trials of Herculanna and Sevcules<p>

Part Seven: That's No Bull!

"SoS'oy, what is momma doing?" Evelyn Veya Torres smoothed out her bright yellow dress that she insisted on wearing when her moms told her about the unique effect the local sun's light had in the Minos Prime system.

All morning she had been fascinated with how her normally 'just ok' yellow dress sparkled in the daylight and she had nearly bumped into several of the local Minoians as she twirled and danced about- and *that* was after her momma had told her to stop staring at the local people who's skin reflected light from their sun like a liquid kaleidoscope. Her older sister eventually took her hand and skipped gently along with her, tempering the tiny supernova of Evelyn's enthusiasm to something a bit more manageable. B'Elanna and Seven had shared a prideful look and held back a tear at how adorably close the two sisters were despite not sharing any genetic stock.

The Minoians themselves were tall and slender; a hairless race of people that had the most unique colour features that any of Voyager's crew had ever seen- including First Officer Seven Torres. The nature of Minos Prime's sun caused a very unique evolution of its people.

The first noticeable difference was in their eyes. Minoians had only two eye colours, blue and orange. Their eyes were also very distinct in that they had no iris or pupil- in fact, their development provided them with multiple points of refraction on the surface of the eye allowing for visual acuity and field of view far beyond the human eye in the form of a hexagonal pattern not unlike a Terran insect's eyes- the movement of the pattern in their eyes was also the only real way to tell when their gaze shifted if they didn't move their head.

The part in the information package on the Minoians that Voyager had received upon arriving that had fascinated the Doctor to no end- which was why he spent most of his time at the local hospital- was that the Minoian eye did not have traditional 'rods and cones' like many humanoids. In fact, the fluid within their eye contained many different types of these 'rods and cones'. The layer covering the optic nerve seemed to be the key to it all. This layer thickened or thinned, almost like a muscle, depending on how the Minoian wanted to see. When this happened, unique electrical signals would be sent into the fluid of the eye drawing the appropriate 'rods and cones' to the optic nerve like a magnet. This allows the Minoians to actually see in several different spectrums of light and switch between them with a thought. The constant mild electrical discharge and movement within the eye also gives the distinct 'churning' glow to their eyes. Finally, the intensity of the muted glow of their eyes seemed to change with their mood; bright when happy, dim when sad.

The second difference, and probably most obvious difference in the daytime, was their skin. A Minoian's skin, and the skin of many of the planet's wildlife absorbed and reflected light in the most unique of ways. In the dark, a Minoian had rather pale and unremarkable colouring to their skin. In the sunlight and to a lesser extent, artificial light, a Minoian's skin became a vibrant tapestry and fluid rainbow of colours. It was one of the reasons why they took to wearing flowing white fabrics that hung loosely off the shoulder and gently sparkled in the sunlight, adding a nice accent to their natural beauty. Primitive camouflage, mating habits and such all seemed to be the standard culprits for that particular evolution- according to the Doctor.

Voyager's crew had been quite taken with the kind and uniquely beautiful people and had spent as much of their time on the planet as possible during their brief stay. Seven and B'Elanna had finally gotten a free day from their duties and had taken their girls down to the planet to see the sights and take in the uniqueness of the planet and its people.

Currently in her seat, Eve was trying very hard not to fidget but the temptation to move her dress and catch more light was almost unbearable for the five year old.

Marisiah 'Sia' Torres, who had been quietly absorbing everything she possibly could during their time so far on the planet, finally put her hand on her sister's knee to still her somewhat. "I believe she has entered a local competition." Eve looked wide-eyed from her big sister to her SoS for confirmation as excitement bloomed upon her face. "Is it true SoS'oy?"

Seven's currently steely gaze left her wife for a brief moment and softened as she unclenched her jaw to speak with her daughter. "It appears so, Duy mach. Apparently, _'take the girls to the grandstand and find a good seat, I want to check something out'_ is B'Elanna-speak for, 'I'm entering a local competition'." Eve just rolled her eyes at her mother's displeasure; her rebellious streak was often attributed to, and exacerbated by her momma- whom she looked upon as a holo-adventure star- much to her blonde mother's perpetual vexation.

"Do you think she's gonna win? I think she will!" Eve was practically bouncing with excitement about the thought of her momma in a competition… for which she had no idea of the rules, objective, etc. Details- the meaningless annoyance of adulthood, not something a five year old need concern herself with. Her normally blue eyes, inherited from her mother, were sparkling in the daylight with an almost deep purple tint to them that could only be attributed to her grandmother. Seven's eyes had been practically glowing a tropical ocean blue and Sia's golden eyes were like miniature stars, highlighting all they fell upon. She couldn't help but smile at her younger sister.

"Our SoS is very skilled. I think she will do well, although I am unsure of the rules of this particular competition." Her brow furrowed slightly, not unlike Seven's when she would turn her powerful cognitive process on a problem, as she looked over the 'arena'.

"B'Elanna's in the celebration of Cre-Te? This is going to be great!" Tom Paris said as he and Harry Kim arrived in the grand stands near the family Torres to watch the event. He eased his way into the seat beside Sia, seemingly favouring his backside despite his grin and the pile of junk food held in his hands. Harry Kim was following behind Tom, just as tentative and careful as he sat beside his friend. Both men seemed a bit… tender. Letting out a breath after getting seated, Tom smiled at Sia and Eve. "Three-Point-Five and the Little Blue Blur, how are you ladies this morning?"

Eve giggled and rolled her eyes at 'Crazy Uncle Tommy' and his silly nicknames for her and Sia before turning back to the arena to see if she could see her momma. Sia, however, was less impressed. She crossed her arms and gave what B'Elanna would describe as a very 'Seven-like' pout. "Mr. Paris, my name is Marisiah- for the fourteenth time."

Seven finally spared some attention to the new arrivals. Not taking her eyes off her wife, the right corner of her mouth twitched upwards as she spoke, the hint of the unseen grin would only heard by those who knew her best. "Mr. Paris only teases in humour, Marisiah. However, he often uses humour to compensate for his own shortcomings, or in this case, discomfort."

Now it was Tom's turn to pout. "Well, if you'd only return our access to the medical replicators-"

"I was given very clear instructions from the Doctor. Is this not a situation for your 'better-half's' to rectify?" Seven allowed herself a small moment of satisfaction over her use of the casual term.

Tom was sure he was seeing the beginnings of a smirk on Seven's normally passive features, but he could never quite tell with her. He and Harry both sunk slightly in their seats. "They're in on this too, I don't know what B'Elanna said, but they couldn't stop laughing. We're not even getting any sympathy coos…"

"C'mon Seven! Help us out! Please?" Poor Harry was finally cracking and Seven almost felt sorry for him. Almost. She turned to Tom and Harry and quirked her brow and grinned just enough to make them really uncomfortable.

"I believe the expression is, 'you've made your own beds'. Perhaps next time you will inform those you bring to the holodeck for 'an adventure' that you had turned the safeties to half." She winked and gave a genuine smile to her daughters who were both trying to hold back laughter. Eve was still focused on her momma but couldn't help giggling just a little bit at the story her SoS'oy had finally told them the other night because her momma couldn't get through it without laughing. Sia debated making a comment about underestimating her mothers, but decided to let it go and watch her mom compete in the competition.

Seeing no victory here, Tom retreated to the salty snacks in his possession. His response was quiet and mumbled through a mouth full of food. "…stayed in the part I gave you…"

Everyone's attention turned to the area as the crowd began to make noise.

* * *

><p>Maybe she shouldn't have misled her wife. No, B'Elanna knew she definitely shouldn't have misled her wife and she would likely pay for it later, but this opportunity was too good to pass up and, well, it was easier to beg forgiveness than ask permission, right?<p>

'_She's still gonna kill me… but what a way to go…'_

She'd changed into her pale-yet-reflective form-fitting full-body wet suit and was waiting in anticipation with the other teams of competitors. The local Minoians were all paired up. B'Elanna, however, had denied the offer of help feeling like this was something she wanted to do on her own. Pride may also have been a factor although she'd never admit it- not that she'd need to as anyone who knows her would know the truth.

'_I can feel your clenched jaw and stare through the wall Blue, relax, I'll be ok.'_

She felt the familiar tingle of cold reproach at the back of her neck and just shook her head. _'She won't really make me sleep on the couch… would she? Nah…'_

Too late now, the doors were opening and it was time to get her game face on. She had laughed earlier at the caricature they had shown her of the bull-thing that the tassels attached to its horns that she had to grab to win. This would be easy.

Normally in the competition of the 'Cre-Te', teams of two swam to the island and had to brave the beast's cave and grab one of the red-coloured tassels off one of its four horns. B'Elanna figured it was simple enough and that she had this wrapped up with no one slowing her down. She'd be there, grab the sleeve and back to the Champion's Circle before half the Minoians even got their lanky asses to the island…

* * *

><p>"Well, Be'nal, you succeeded in your little event, are you happy?"<p>

A low grown was the only response to Seven's question as she rubbed medi-gel on her wife's healing back. Seven had been impressed with the Minoian's athleticism; the lithe people who normally did not strike one as being particularly physical were deceptively fast and agile- which were two attributes sorely needed when retrieving the tassel from the Gre-Taur itself.

The highlight of the event for Tom Paris was, without a doubt, the moment B'Elanna ran screaming from the cave yelling _"They weren't joking! I thought they were joking! It wasn't a caricature!"_

Eve was squealing with excitement as the hulking beast the size of a Class VII shuttle stormed from the cave as the teams of Minoians scattered about attempting to distract it while their partner moved as stealthily as they could to try and get close. The only real reason why the Minoians had any chance was because of their unique biological evolutionary traits. The reflected colour off their skin prevented the great beast from being able to focus on their form in the daytime.

After another moment, B'Elanna let out a long breath. "Did Eve see my jump onto it's head? I swear at that point I figured that if that giant lumbering mass of muscle and horns didn't kill me, you would so I might as well go out in style." Although tired and somewhat muffled due to the fact that she was face down on their bed, Seven heard it all and had to stifle a snicker.

"Unfortunately she did, and I do not believe the smile has left her face as of yet. Her 'momma' is one of the four Champions of Cre-Te. She has been regaling the Captain of your feats for the past hour or so…" She let the implications of that little tidbit of information sit for a moment.

B'Elanna groaned again, this time not from her wife's deft touch. "I'm in for another one of her 'responsible parent' speeches again, aren't I?"

"Indeed I believe you are."

"…it was worth it." B'Elanna turned on to her side and saw the smile she loved so much spring upon her wife's flawless features. Her jaw dropped when the smile turned sultry.

Seven began to peel off her clothes. "Is the great champion ready to claim her prize?"

"…soo worth it…"

~FIN~

* * *

><p>AN: Oh, so yeah, this will fit into the "R&D: Family" universe as that is supposed to be more funny/fluffy than plot heavy.


End file.
